Lord of the Rings
by LokisKat13
Summary: Iliana, Strider's apprentice, joins the Fellowship. She proves herself worthy of the company.
1. Prologue

Prologue: 20 Years Before the Fellowship

The night was cruel, cold winds tearing through the trees as Aragorn, known in these parts as Strider, silently moved, his weather-worn cloak pulled tight about him as he lead his horse. Dawn was near, he knew, and dawn would bring warmth and light into the dense wood. His keen ears, trained from years of traveling as a Ranger, picked up everything, from the squirrels chittering in a tree three yards to his left to the fox carrying a limp rabbit back to its den for its kits. The sounds of nature.

Suddenly a piercing cry shattered through the forest, causing every muscle in Strider's body to tighten as he dropped into a low crouch. He dropped the reins to his steed's bridle, knowing that the horse wouldn't stray. He moved silently through the underbrush of the forest floor, hardly even rustling the leaves of a fern in his passing. He moved in the direction of the cry, wishing he had a more definite location, his right had tight around his sword. He was prepared to spring if necessary.

The cry came again, this time of pain than of fear, and Strider made haste toward its source. His blood had run cold; the cry was that of a child. His lanky hair framed his face as he crouched behind the trunk of a massive tree; the trunk was three times as wide as his own body. If his blood had been cold before, it was ice now.

A small child, no older than five years, sat huddled, surrounded by two monstrous trolls. Two heaping rags told Strider that the girl's parents had already been devoured. One of the trolls, the larger of the two, was chewing of what looked to be the girl's older sibling.

"How should we fix this little snack?" gawfed the smaller troll, nudging the girl with a toe; the force of it knocked her over. "Roast it?"

"Nah," the other growled, tossing aside the remains of its victim, "boils it, says I."

Strider crept around behind the larger one, using his cloak as camouflage as the two gigantic creature argued on the best way to devour the child. With as much care as he could, he drew his sword. He knew he only had moments to act out his plan.

He took a deep, silent breath and launched himself onto the largest troll's shoulders, thrusting his sword through the best's only weak spot: the throat. Strider continued to let his momentum carry him forward, his sword, which was still buried deep in the troll's jugular, tore open the rest of the brute's neck as Strider flew through the air.

"What?!" roared the smaller of the two as the other gurgled through its own thick blood as it died.

The yell of a warrior erupted from Strider's throat as he attacked, burying his sword to the hilt in the troll's esophagus. Its beady eyes glared hatred as it slowly drowned in its own blood. He looked at the carcass as it slumped backwards, and he began cleaning his blade on the thing's filthy pants.

Breathing heavily for a few moments, he turned to the child, who now sat curled against the roots of a tree, staring at him with large green eyes.

 _"Pedich Edhellen?"_ he asked in Elvish, kneeling a few feet away from her. She whimpered and flinched away. He sighed, sheathing his sword. "Be not afraid, little one. I'll not allow harm to befall you." He held out a hand, palm up, towards her.

Her eyes, the color of emerald gems, regarded him warily, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. "Momma?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

Strider slowly shook his head, tears began to flow heavily and she flung herself into his arms. Taken aback, he gently held her as she cried, sobbing out her sorrow, her tiny fists clutching at his cloak. "It'll be all right, little one," he whispered, scooping her up and walking back to his horse, which was calmly grazing.

The little girl's sobs had tapered off to soft whimpers every now and then. He gently set her down, still holding onto one of her hands, which seemed so small compared to his own. He knelt in front of her again. "I'll take you somewhere safe, all right?" When she nodded, he asked, "What's your name?"

When she spoke, her voice was no louder than a whisper.

"Iliana."

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

 ** _The phrase 'pedich edhellen' means "Do you speak Elvish?"_**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Prancing Pony

The roar coming from the pub at the inn was nearly deafening. It was all the worse, for Whisper didn't like crowds. They made her nervous, edgy. She sat in a corner, an uneaten platter of bread and cheese in front of her, the hood of her weather-worn cloak pulled low over her face, shielding her eyes from others. She wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the request.

"Request," she thought. "More like orders." But she loved the old wizard. It was he who convinced Strider to keep her on, so many years ago. She smiled a little at the memory; Rivendell, almost twenty years ago, just a year after Strider had saved her. She wouldn't speak to anyone, save Lord Elrond, Gandalf, and of course, Strider. To Elron and the wizard, she would hardly raise her voice, earning her the name 'Whisper'. She remembered the council that Gandalf and Elron had with Strider while she sat in a chair, trembling slightly.

"She doesn't speak to a soul outside of this room," Gandalf told Strider, who had his arms folded in a worried gesture.

"And even then, she only really speaks to you," Elrond pointed out. He sat in a high-backed chair, his long fingers laced together against his lip.

"What would you have me do?" Strider asked in a low voice, his blue-green eyes shifting to the girl. "She has a better chance here than in any village I know. She can learn here."

Elron nodded. "Iliana is a brilliant child, but she cannot flourish here." He arched a pointed eyebrow, as if the answer should be obvious.

Strider stared at the girl he had rescued. He had come to love her as his little sister, despite that he could only visit Rivendell for short periods.

Gandalf stared at him, a smile hidden behind his bushy beard. "You could," he began slowly, "take her with you," When Strider looked to him, he continued. "You could teach her all you know, and she might even be able to help you."

At his suggestion, Iliana had leapt from the chair, her emerald eyes shining.

Movement caught her eye, bringing Whisper from her memories. Four small men had just sat down at a table a few yards from her, their cloaks soaked from the downpour going on outside. The owner quickly brought them mugs that seemed far too big for their little hands, and three of them sat to their meal.

The fourth, Whisper noticed, didn't touch his ale or the bread. In fact, he seemed restless, his eyes shifting around every few minutes, as if searching for someone. After a little while, he settled back in his chair. The Hobbit across from him, a portly man with sandy hair, kept twisting around in his chair to look at the door.

"Don't worry, Sam," the first Hobbit, his curly dark hair starting to dry from the rain. "He'll be here."

Hours passed, and neither the Hobbits or Whisper moved.

Sam, the sandy-haired Hobbit, spoke around a mouthful of bread. "That fellow has done nothing but stare at you since we arrived."

The dark haired one glanced to where Sam was nodding, and Whisper tensed. The inn owner walked by, and the Hobbit 'Underhill' stopped him. "That Man in the corner," he said, "who is he?"

The innkeeper looked, and his eyes grew wide. "He's one of them Rangers," he said in a low voice that Whisper heard clearly. "They're dangerous folk, wandering the Wilds. What his right name is, I've never heard, but 'round here he's known as Strider." With that, he moved away.

Whisper saw the Hobbit mumbling something, then was still, his eyes closed. He stayed that way for a long while, and Whisper could see his eyes shifting below their lids.

"Baggins?" came the voice of one of the other Hobbits who was sitting at the bar. "Sure, I know a Baggins. He's right there, Frodo Baggins!"

The dark-haired Hobbit's eyes flew open, and he darted to the bar. Whisper looked to Strider, who was standing. She quickly darted to the stairs, hearing Frodo shout "Pippin!" She glanced over her shoulder with just enough time to see Frodo fall, and then disappear altogether.

"Go!" Strider hissed to Whisper, and she quickly ran up to the room they had procured from the owner. The fire was lit, as were several candles. She checked every corner, making certain there was no one else there. As she finished her sweep, Strider burst in with Frodo, his hood still hiding his face.

"What do you want?" Frodo ordered, standing near the fire, his blue eyes wide.

Strider glanced at him as he moved to put out the candles. "A little more caution from you. That is no trinket you carry." His voice was low.

Frodo's face paled slightly. "I carry nothing."

"Indeed," Striper replied sarcastically as Whisper put out the fire. "I can avoid being seen if I wish, but to disappear entirely," he smirked as he slipped his hood down to look Frodo in the eye, "that is a rare gift."

Frodo took a step back. "Who are you?"

"Are you frightened?" Whisper asked from behind him, causing him to jump.

"Yes," he admitted.

"Not nearly frightened enough," Strider insisted. "I know what hunts you."

A sudden clamor in the halls caused Strider to whip around, sword drawn. Whisper also drew her sword, pulling Frodo against her to protect him; he came just above her waist.

The three Hobbits who arrived with Frodo burst into the room, Sam with his fists raised, one of the others with a stool, and the last with a candelabrum.

"Let him go!" Sam demanded fiercely. "Or I'll have you, Longshanks!"

Whisper released Frodo and sheathed her sword as Strider relaxed his stance, a small smile on his face. "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that will not save you." He sheathed his sword as Sam slowly lowered his fists.

Strider turned to Frodo. "You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo." He moved closer to him. "They're coming."

Frodo's eyes grew wide, and the other three paled.

Strider and Whisper sat at the darkened window, staring out into the wet night. The four Hobbits were asleep; possibly the last comfortable sleep they'll get.

"We're taking them to Rivendell?" Whisper inquired in a low voice, her emerald eyes searching the streets.

"Aye," Strider said. "It's the safest place for them now."

The sudden piercing shriek of the Wraiths caused the Hobbits to wake with a start.

"What are they?" Frodo asked, his eyes boring into Strider, who gazed at the inn across the street. At the room directly across from theirs, the Wraiths continued their shrieking.

Strider turned from the window, his voice sad. "They were once Men. Great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power. Blind to their greed, they took them without question. One by one, falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will." He glanced into the streets to see the Nine mounting their black steeds and tearing off, vanishing into the night. "They are the Nazgul. Ringwraiths. Neither living nor dear. At all times, they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will **never** stop hunting you."

The six of them hurried through the wilderness, both Strider and Whisper leading their horses. Strider lead the group, his hood drawn always, while Whisper brought up the end. The weather neither hindered nor helped them.

One night, as Strider was hunting for their dinner and Merry and Pippin prepared the fire, Frodo sat near Whisper, who was keeping watch, her bow across her lap.

"What is your relation to Strider?" Frodo asked quietly. Whisper glanced at him but said nothing. "Are you his wife?"

The idea of her marriage to Strider was so ridiculous it brought a smile to her lips. "No, little one," she finally answered. "He saved me from Trolls when I was a child. He has been my mentor and friend ever since." She looked at him, her eyes soft. "He is an older brother to me, the only family I've got in this empty World. Where he goes, I go." She said no more, merely turning back to her watch. She felt Frodo's eyes on her for a little longer, then she felt him move.

The whistling signal announced Strider's return, a small boar draped over his shoulder. The Hobbits prepared the meal while Strider cleaned his blade. Throughout the night, Whisper sensed Frodo watching her, as if searching for something.

 _ **Author's Note**_

 _ **I will be uploading every Friday (had internet trouble this past Friday, and I apologize). Please leave a review! Thank you!**_


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Weathertop

A few evenings after Frodo's questioning, the party arrived at a crumbling structure.

Pippin was leading Whisper's mare while Same held tight to Strider's steed. The two Rangers stood side by side, sorrow and regret written on their faces as they gazed at it.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sul," Strider said just loud enough for the Hobbits to hear. He turned to them. "We shall rest here tonight."

It took them nearly two hours to climb to the top, and by the time they reached it, it was full nightfall.

"Whisper and I will go gather food for the rest of the journey," Strider said. "Stay here and keep a close watch." He unwrapped four small swords and handed one to each as they shed their packs in the small alcove they were using as shelter. "These are for you. Keep them close." He began his decent slowly.

"Stay here," Whisper said before following. It took the two less than half the time to reach the bottom.

Strider turned to her. "The air feels different," he said vaguely. "Something is going to happen." He glanced at their surroundings. "I want you to stay here and signal if anything happens."

Whisper nodded, finding a secluded yet easily maneuverable place for her to keep watch as Strider left, his cloak pulled tight against the wind. Whisper stretched her arms, legs, and back, her long limbs tightening then relaxing. She lowered her head, and a long, thick golden-red braid fell past her waist. She tucked a few loose strands behind her slightly pointed ears to keep them from tickling her.

Hours passed, and the night grew darker. She heard an echo from above her. "Put it out, you fools, put it out!"

"Frodo!' she hissed, moving so she could look up. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the flicker of a fire being stomped out.

"Oh, that's nice!" Pippin yelled, and the echo reached Whisper. "Ash on my tomatoes!"

Praying silently, Whisper hoped nothing heard the commotion. But the piercing scream told her otherwise. She turned and saw a faction of the Nine riding for Weathertop at full gallop.

Knowing that Strider heard the Nazgul's scream, she began her climb, hurrying.

"Damn," she swore as stone broke away under her hand, forcing her to stretch farther for a handhold. Finally, she made it to the top, just as the Wraiths did. She saw Sam bravely attack the Witch King, and she leapt forward, her sword drawn. Two of the others began fighting, swinging their dark blades while the Witch King continued.

She stabbed one just as she heard Frodo scream. "No!" she growled, fighting more vigorously.

"Here!" came Strider's yell as he lept at the Witch King, fighting him away from Frodo. He had a lit torch in one hand, his sword in the other. He threw the flame at one Wraith, and it caught fire instantly.

The Rangers drove the rest over the edge, fighting, striking killing blows. When they had finally gone, the two hurried to Frodo.

Whisper quickly pulled aside the Hobbit's shirt to look at the wound while Strider picked up the dagger.

"Help him," Sam begged as Frodo continued to moan in agony.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade," Strider hissed, glaring at it. Suddenly, is disintegrated, and Strider tossed the hilt aside.

Whisper looked at him. "This is beyond my skill to heal," she said. "He needs Elvish medicine."

Strider quickly lifted Frodo, and they began at a renewed haste.

"We're six days from Rivendell," Sam said as he led Strider's stud. "He'll never make it!"

Whisper, furious with herself for not being able to do more, sent a silent prayer. "Hold on, Frodo," she whispered.

Three days later, the group stopped for a short break. Sam pressed his hand to Frodo's forehead.

"He's going cold!" he exclaimed, looking to Whisper. Strider held a torch, looking at the underbrush.

Pippin knelt beside Whisper, who was wrapping Frodo in a blanket. "Is he going to die?"

Whisper didn't answer, her brow furrowed.

"He's passing into the Shadow World. He'll soon become a Wraith like them," Strider said, his voice expressionless.

Frodo made a choking moan, cold sweat covering him, his eyes glazing over. Strider called Sam to him. "Do you know the Athelas plant?"

"Athelas?" Sam sounded confused.

"Kingsfoil!" Strider hissed.

"Aye, it's a weed!" His face showed disgust.

Strider put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "It may help to slow the poison. Hurry!"

The two hurried off in the underbrush, leaving Whisper, Merry, and Pippin to care for Frodo.

"What can we do?" Merry asked.

"I don't know!" hissed Whisper, frustrated at herself. When the two looked at her, she immediately regretted it. "I apologize. I'm just…"

"Look!" Sam hissed as he came back into the clearing.

They turned, and Whisper saw Arwen, the daughter of Lord Elrond.

"She's and Elf!" whispered Sam, awestruck.

Arwen knelt next to Whisper, leaning over Frodo as Strider put pieces of ground Athelas into the wound, causing Frodo to gasp.

"He's fading," Arwen whispered, glancing at Strider. "He's not going to last. We must get him to my Father." Strider scooped the injured and delirious Hobbit into his arms. "I've been looking for you for two days."

The other Hobbits gathered around Whisper, who was still kneeling. "Where are you taking him?" demanded Merry.

Arwen lead Strider to her horse and she mounted. "There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know."

Strider and Arwen switched from the Spoken Language to Elvish, and Whisper tried not to eavesdrop. She knew of their deep love for each other. He slowly put Frodo into the saddle with her.

"What are they saying?" Pippin asked, staring.

"I do not fear them," Arwen insisted quietly to Strider.

He gently took her hand. "Arwen," he began softly. "Ride hard. Don't look back."

She gave him a swift smile and urged her horse forward in the Elf tongue. The horse took off like an arrow loosed from a bow.

"What are you doing?!" Sam yelled. "Those Wraiths are still out there!" His glare settled on Strider, who was staring after the Elf he loved.

Whisper took Sam's hand and he looked into her brilliant eyes, his own brimmed with tears. "She is Arwen, daughter of Elrond, the lord of Rivendell," she explained to him swiftly. "she is taking him to safety, to Rivendell, faster than we ever could."

Sam looked away as if he were embarrassed. When he turned back, the tears he had been trying to withhold were spilling down his rosy cheeks. "But I promised…" he said. "I promised Master Gandalf…I wouldn't leave him, and now I have…"

His tears and his words touched Whisper, and she gently folded her arms around the sobbing Hobbit. His loyalty to Frodo greatly resembled her loyalty to Strider. She held him until he stopped his tears.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Happy Friday! I hope you all are enjoying the story thus far! This has been one of my favorite stories to write, and I hope to see some reviews for it soon. Thanks for the favorites and the follows!**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Rivendell and the Council

The five arrived at Rivendell just past nightfall three days after Lady Arwen had taken Frodo. Through thoroughly exhausted, Sam immediately sought out the injured Hobbit. Both Merry and Pippin sat down on the stairs in front of the castle and, leaning against each other, fell asleep.

A small group of Elves, led by Elrond and Arwen, swept down the gleaming steps in long, glorious robes.

 _"Welcome,"_ Lord Elrond said in Elvish, his arms spread. _"Long have we waited for your arrival."_

Strider bowed, as did Whisper. _"Our road was faced with challenges, Lord Elrond."_

The Elf lord nodded. _"So I've heard."_ He motioned with one hand to the unconscious Hobbits, and two Elves quickly scooped them up and carried them to a set of rooms.

 _"If I may beg your pardon, My Lord,"_ Whisper said, bowing again, _"I shall retire to my quarters."_ She stood, awaiting dismissal.

 _"Of course."_ Elrond gave her a short smile. _"We shall speak tomorrow."_

Bowing her head again, Whisper handed the reins of her mare to the stable hand and hurried up the stairs, feeling the dull ache in her muscles. She walked along the corridors, her hood still drawn, her knee-high boots clicking on the stone floor. The sound echoed in the hallways.

As she neared her rooms, the two Elves, Ishtara and Elindia, who had carried the two Hobbits, approached her. _"Whisper,"_ Ishtara curtsied before the Ranger. _" We placed the little ones in the room next to yours."_

Whisper smiled wearily. _"Thank you,"_ she said as the two Elves walked off. Sighing, she walked the last few yards to her chambers and quickly shut the door behind her. Stifling a yawn, she removed her cloak and laid it across the chest that lay at the foot of her bed. Sitting in an elegantly carved wooden chair, she removed her boots, stretching out her feet in her woolen stockings. Still sitting, she unlaced the red-brown leather vest that served as light body armor.

Clad only in a light blue, long-sleeved silk shirt, dark brown (almost black) breeches, and her stockings, she unbraided her hair as she walked through the adjacent door into the bathing chambers. Someone had already filled the large copper tub with steaming water for her. She smiled, thankful for the consideration. She was looking forward to a long, hot bath.

The next morning dawned early, and Whisper woke to find that all her travel clothes had been laundered and her boots polished. Despite that she loved the wilderness, she occasionally missed the conventions of living in a civilization. A small tray of fruits and cheese sat on the table next to her bed.

She slowly stood, stretching her arms above her head, all soreness from the night before gone. Her golden-red hair, unbound from its usual braid, flowed in silken waves that reached her thighs. She was clad only in a white silk nightdress as she silently ate her breakfast, enjoying the peace.

As she held a sliver of peach to her lips, a knock came at the door. Sighing and grabbing the heavy robe, she slipped it on and answered the door to find a messenger from the Elf lord.

 _"My lady,"_ said the Elf serenely, bowing before her. _"Lord Elrond and Wizard Gandalf have requested your immediate presence at the Council of the Ring."_

Whisper nodded, and the messenger left. _"_ So much for peace," she mumbled as she shut the heavy door. She moved to her wardrobe and began looking through the selection. Her preferred garments, her travel clothes, would not be appropriate, so she selected a light velvet dress of magenta, the trim a color of light pink rose. Somehow managing her stays by herself, she quickly slipped into the gown, feeling ridiculous as she fitted the matching velvet slippers onto her delicately small feet. After running a brush through her hair, and tying back the locks from her temples, she left her room, heading to the Council Chambers.

Only one chair stood empty in the half circle around a pedestal. Whisper quickly curtsied, feeling very self-conscious, and sat beside Strider, who looked magnificently different without his weather-worn tunic and cloak. He gave her a reassuring smile before they turned to look at Lord Elrond, who stood next to the small pillar.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old," he began, his brow furrowed, "you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction; none can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

The Hobbit, looking weak from his wound and especially small compared to the Men and Elves and even the Dwarves, stepped forward and placed the solid golden band on the flat surface of the marble pedestal and returned to his place beside Gandalf. The entire council stared at the Ring, except for Whisper. She did not seem to be captivated by its presence, unlike the others.

One Man, sitting a few chairs down from Whisper, shifted in his seat. "It is a gift," he said, standing up. All eyes tore away from the Ring and stared at him. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" He paced back and forth in front of the small pillar. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."

Strider spoke from beside Whisper, startling her. "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone," he said, giving the other Man a hard look. "It has no other Master."

Whisper felt proud of her mentor for not succumbing to the Ring's temptation like this Man seemed to.

The Gondorian sneered at him. "And what would a Ranger," he drawled out the word, "know of this matter?"

At his words, Whisper stood swiftly, furry written on her face. And she wasn't the only one. An Elf, representing Mirkwood, had also leapt to his feet, his velvet robes flying with his movements.

"This is no mere Ranger," he said, his melodic voice laced with furry. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

The Gondorian looked to Strider, his gray eyes disbelieving. Strider's hand was on Whisper's wrist, restraining her.

"Aragorn?" the Man asked, a sneer still in his voice. " **This** is Isildur's heir?"

The Mirkwood Elf smirked, his cobalt eyes sparkling. "And heir to the throne of Gondor."

His words had an impact on all there, especially the Gondorian. Strider pulled Whisper to her seat then looked at the standing Elf. _"Havo dad, Legolas,"_ he said in Elvish, almost as if he were embarrassed.

Legolas, nodding ever so slightly to him, returned to his chair, his eyes never leaving the standing Man.

"Gondor has no king," the Gondorian said towards Legolas as he moved to his own seat. "Gondor **needs** no king." As he sat down, he shot both Aragorn and Whisper a spiteful look.

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf said from beside Frodo. Whisper tore her eyes away from the Gondorian, her blood still boiling. "We cannot use it."

Elrond stood from his chair. "You have only one choice," he said, looking at each of them in turn. "The Ring must be destroyed."

It was silent for a long moment. Whisper took calming breaths.

"Then what are you waiting for?" asked a burly Dwarf, raising his axe and launching himself on the Ring. There was a sound like a small explosion, and the Dwarf flew backwards, his axe shattered around him.

The Dwarves and Men near him rose to their feet to aid him. The Ring, Whisper saw, had no blemish on it.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," Lord Elron spoke slowly as the Dwarf rose. "The Ring was made in the Fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. The Ring must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence is came." He looked at them again. "One of you must do this."

Whisper, still in shock over Gimli being thrown to his back with such force, looked to Elrond, her emerald eyes wide in disbelief. She then looked to Gandalf, then Aragorn beside her.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," the Gondorian spoke up, one hand at his right temple as if it ached. "Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep." He pulled his hand away and made a circle with his fingers. "The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten-thousand Men could you do this. It is folly." He shook his head.

Legolas leapt to his feet again. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?!" he demanded, looking at the Council. "The Ring **must** be destroyed!"

Gimli stood from his seat, his stocky legs spread in a challenging stance. "And I suppose you think **you're** the one to do it?" He glared at Legolas.

The Gondorian rose from his seat and began his pacing yet again. "And if we fail, what then?" he demanded. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

Gimli took a step closer to Legolas, his face red behind his massive beard. "I will be **dead** before I see the Ring in the hands of an **Elf**!"

At his words, chaos erupted as all races leapt to their feet. Legolas's kinsmen lunged at Gimli but the Mirkwood prince held them back as Gimli shouted, "Never trust an Elf!"

Only Aragorn stayed in his seat. Whisper stormed the few steps to the Gondorian and struggled to be heard over the uproar. "What do you know of anything, you moronic Man?!" she demanded, her skirts and hair flying in her rage-filled movements. "You know nothing!"

He looked at her. "What woman dares to speak to me in such ways?" he growled.

Gandalf stood, his voice booming above Whisper's retort. "Do you not understand?! While you bicker amongst yourselves, Sauron's power grows!" He glared at them all as they ignored him. "None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!"

Whisper continued yelling at the Gondorian, and he yelled right back, his eyes lit with fire. Suddenly, a small voice cut through the chaos.

"I will take it!"

The Council, still enraged, did not hear as Frodo stood. "I will take it!" he repeated, and the races fell silent, all turning to stare at him. "I will take the Ring to Mordor!" His large blue eyes searched them all. "Though…I do not know the way…" He suddenly looked embarrassed by all the attention placed on him.

Gandalf stepped forward, his gray wizards' robes shifting. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." He patted Frodo's shoulder as he moved to stand behind him.

Aragorn stood and brushed between Whisper and the Gondorian. "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." He knelt before the Hobbit and took his hand. "You have my sword…"

Legolas stepped forward. "And you have my bow."

"And **my** axe," Gimli said proudly.

Whisper stepped forward to stand behind Frodo with the others. "I am yours to command," she said, letting her hand rest on his shoulder.

The Gondorian slowly stepped forward, his gray eyes dancing as he stared down at Frodo. "You carry the fate of us all, little one," he said. "If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done." He gave Frodo a cold smile.

"Hey!" said a voice from behind them, startling them all as Sam ran out of the bushes. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me." Frodo gave him an admiring smile as Sam blushed.

Whisper looked at Lord Elrond, surprised to see him smiling. "No, indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you, even when **he** is summoned to a secret council and **you** are not." His sarcasm was light and joking, but Sam looked down, embarrassed all the same.

"Oi!" came another shout, causing Elrond to look around furiously. "We're coming too!" Merry and Pippin ran to stand next to Frodo, who seemed amazed. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," Merry told them all.

"A-anyways, you need people of intelligence for this sort of mission…quest… **thing!** " Pippin said, glancing around.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip," Merry murmured, and Pippin nodded before he realized it. Whisper tried hard not to laugh at the two Hobbits' antics.

"Ten companions," Lord Elron mused. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring." He looked relieved, ad if a burden had been lifted.

"Great!" Pippin exclaimed, smiling. "Where are we going?"

Whisper barely caught the laugh that escaped her lips as they all looked to the innocent Hobbit.

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _ **Happy Friday, and happy Friday the 13th! Thank you for reading thus far! Everything spoken in Elvish is in italics and underlined. When I have an Elvish phrase, I will give the translation in the AN. Please, leave a review!**_


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: The Feast and The Journey Begins

After the Council was dismissed, Whisper headed toward her room, intent on packing her things and sharpening her weapons. She was halfway down the corridor when Elrond called her back.

"Walk with me, my child," he told her, and together they began down the steps, heading to the garden paths.

"Is there anything on your mind, My Lord?" she asked, her hands folded respectfully in front of her.

Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. "How are your travels?" He didn't look at her, only stared at the magnificent floral around them.

"Fine, My Lord," she replied. They walked in silence for a long while. Whisper was becoming suspicious. "What is it that you wanted, Lord Elrond?"

He glanced at her as if he was annoyed at her question. He sighed. "There is no deceiving you, is there, Iliana?" he asked, using her given name. It made her even more warry. "I have a question that requires the utmost secrecy from you. Do I have your word?" His eyes pierced hers, demanding an answer.

"Yes, My Lord," she said, halting in her tracks.

There was a long pause as Elrond stared at the leaves in their path. Iliana was afraid he wouldn't answer, when he finally spoke. "Do you have any feelings toward Aragorn?"

She took a step back, thoroughly shocked. She stared at him incredulously. "Feelings for Aragorn?" she repeated. "Only that of a sister for an older brother, a student for a mentor, and that of a beloved, and loyal, friend." Her emerald eyes narrowed, trying to read his expression as he sighed once again.

"Very well," he said as he began walking again, leaving Iliana standing there.

 _"What…on Earth…?"_ she thought, moving back along the path that she and Elrond had just walked. _"Why would he ask me something like that?"_ She brushed her hair out of her face, lost in deep thought, letting her feet carry her back to her own room.

It was just past duck when Iliana made her way to the dining hall, now in a gown made of crushed gold velvet. It complemented her hair, which was done in bouncing curls held back with a gold satin ribbon.

Many Elves passed her as she made her way, occasionally greeting her, _" Suilaid, Iliana."_ She gave them small smiles, which was more than they expected. As she walked into the hall. She stopped. Her seat was beside that arrogant Gondorian. A dull anger bubbled inside her as she sat beside him, thoroughly intent on ignoring him.

Lord Elrond then stood, his arms open, his blue-gray velvet robes spreading wide. _"Elen sila lumen omentielvo,"_ he said, his eyes travelling to everyone…but Iliana. When he continued speaking, he reverted to the Common Language. "Welcome to my home, distant friends." A few Men and Dwarves clapped, the Elves only nodding their elegant heads. "Let us enjoy the feast, but first, I shall introduce you to the Fellowship which shall destroy the Ring."

He turned to his left (for his daughter, Arwen, sat on his right). "Gandalf, wizard and advisor." The old wizard stood, his old, gray robes completely out of coordination with the others' attire. "Aragorn, son of Arathorn." He, too, stood as Gandalf sat back down. He was wearing robes of deep crimson trimmed in gold and black. He returned to his seat, his blue-gray eyes finding Arwen's. "Legolas, son of Thranduil, prince of Mirkwood." The fair-haired Elf stood lightly, his customary smile shining as his light cobalt eyes darted to a few individuals before he returned to his seat. "Gimli, son of Gloin, of Erebor." The stocky Dwarf stood as his kinsmen applauded him. He grinned beneath his bushy beard and plopped back in his seat. "Boromir, son of Denethor, of Gondor." The Man next to Iliana stood, nodding, and sat back down. "Iliana of Rivendell," Elrond said, shocking her. She never knew he considered her to belong here in Rivendell. She stood, giving a weak grin, and sat down, staring in her lap. "Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck of the Shire." The two Hobbits stood, barely reaching the height of a sitting Man. "Samwise Gamgee, also of the Shire." Sam stood, his round face crimson from the attention. "And finally, our Ring Bearer, Frodo Baggins of the Shire." As Frodo stood, the entire room erupted in applause, startling the Hobbit.

"And now that introductions are taken care of," Elrond said once the clapping has subsided, "let us enjoy dinner."

With that, he sat down, and hundreds of trays were brought out, piled high with food. Very few trays held meats since the Elves didn't eat it. The others were heaped with fruits, cheeses, breads, edible flowers. Goblets were filled with fine Elven wine and spiced Meade. Conversation flowed easily, as if nothing evil could possibly happen.

Iliana ate quietly, marveling at how much the Hobbits could consume, despite their size. Iliana dipped a corner of a luscious strawberry into some sweetened cream and popped the fruit into her mouth, savoring the sweet tang of the juice and cream. She laughed as Merry and Pippin's antics became ever more exaggerated with each goblet of wine they drained.

"My lady?"

Shocked, Iliana turned to her right to face Boromir, the arrogant Gondorian. His glue-gray eyes stared into her emerald ones as he slowly spoke. "I wish to…apologize for my behavior at the council," he said, leaning forward as to not be overheard.

Iliana relaxed slightly, beginning to forgive him.

"I was out of line with what I said about you," Boromir continued, picking up his goblet. "Had I known you were a representative of Elrond and Rivendell, I would have never spoken to you in such a manner."

Iliana's mouth fell slightly. He was apologizing, not for his insults toward her and Aragorn for being Rangers, but for assuming she was nothing more than a mere woman who had gained Elrond's favor. Her eyes suddenly blazed with fire as she gave him a glare. "And what of Aragorn?" she demanded quietly so not to cause alarm. "Have you apologized to him?"

Boromir nervously sucked at a small cut on his finger, choosing his words. "Why should I apologize to a Ranger of a long-dead House?" he asked, taking a long draught of his Meade.

Iliana bit her lip to hold back the spiteful retort that she ached to shout at him. _"Dol lost lin,"_ she muttered, glowering at him. "He is the son of Arathorn, and therefore is the rightful king of Gondor! Just because he is a Ranger means nothing." She shook her head, intent on ending the conversation there.

"He has no claim to my father's throne," Boromir snapped at her. "He has abandoned his title and our people!"

Iliana's head whipped back around, and she noticed both Arwen and Elrond glancing down at them, despite that their conversation was quiet. "You know nothing of his life, you stupid Man!" she growled. He started to say something when she stood. Standing on the other side of her chair, she bent down and looked Boromir dead in the face. _"Ti tallbe Orck."_ She hissed before she whipped around, her hair flying, and left the hall.

Once she had left the occupied corridors, she broke into a run, her hair and skirts flying behind her. Tears of anger were streaming from her eyes as she descended the stairs and darted toward the massive trees. _"Why am I crying?"_ she thought, slowing to a walk. She brushed her tears off one cheek furiously, ashamed that she let a Man like Boromir reduce her to weeping. _"It's because I'm angry,"_ she told herself as she sat beneath her tree, the great oak she had dedicated to her family almost twenty years ago, shortly after she arrived in Rivendell. She always visited it, especially when she was upset; it was her special place.

She rested the side of her head against the tree's soft bark, pulling her knees to her chest. She turned her thoughts from Boromir to her family. She couldn't remember her mother or her father, but she could just barely recall her older brother, Illanir. He was three years older than Iliana and was her best friend. She could recall that all her family, even her mother's and father's family, all had dark hair and eyes, whereas she had golden-red hair and emerald eyes.

But that's all she could remember. Hot tears burned the back of her throat as she gazed toward the treetops. "Why can't I remember?" she whispered, hitting her knee in frustration. "Why can't I see their faces?"

She folded her arms across her knees and buried her face weeping softly. Her shoulders trembled with her sobs, and the treetops shifted with the sudden wind. Raindrops started falling as Iliana began to sing, her voice low.

" _Dancing bears, painting wings_

 _Things I almost remember_

 _And a song someone sings_

 _Once upon a December…"_

As her song continued, the rain fell heavier, blanketing the area with miniscule rivers.

"My lady?" asked a low voice, and Iliana looked up and saw Boromir peering around a tree, a worried expression on his face, his hair soaking wet; it was obvious he had been there for a while.

"What do you want?" Iliana demanded as lightning flashed. She stood, her gown soaked and heavy.

"To apologize," he said, bowing his head. "Again."

"For what?" she asked, moving past him.

"Making you weep," he said, catching hold of her arm.

She looked at his hand on her arm, her emerald almost glowing. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, they locked onto his. She jerked her arm away from his grasp as lightning struck overhead. "Once again, you ignorant Man," she spat out, furiously, "you know nothing! **Why** would I weep because of you?!" He backed up a few steps as she advanced towards him. "Assuming things only makes you a bigger fool that you already are, Gondorian."

With that, she turned and raced back to her room, both her gown and hair still sopping wet, leaving a trail of water drops behind her.

The next evening, the Fellowship was preparing to depart. The Hobbits, except for Frodo, were shifting nervously on their over-large feet. Legolas gazed at the trees and the darkening sky. Gimli was busy grumbling as he adjusted his many axes. Gandalf, Aragorn, and Boromir were in a deep conversation with Lord Elrond. Boromir occasionally glanced at Iliana, who completely ignored him as she tightened the laces on her vest.

She withheld the yawn that tore at her throat; she had gotten very little sleep the night before. She had been plagued with nightmares from her childhood, dreams she had thought she'd buried. Stifling another yawn, she began to adjust the bracers on her wrists, comforted by the quiver of arrows and bow on her back, the twin long-knives strapped to her calves, and the sword at her hip; they were her familiar friends. Never had they failed her.

So, lost in her own thoughts, she didn't notice Gandalf moving to stand beside Frodo, the little Hobbit looking up at the tall wizard.

"It is time," Gandalf said in a somber voice.

Iliana glanced back at the castle of Rivendell, and her heart ached for some reason. She saw Arwen give Aragorn a long look, a soft smile on her beautiful face. She turned away, letting them have their last private moment for a long time to come. As she turned, Boromir caught her eye, his gray eyes seeking her own. His brow was furrowed as he stared, as if he was frustrated or confused.

Slowly, the party began their long journey, not knowing what lies ahead.

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _ **Happy Friday, everyone! Another chapter, and the beginning of the journey! I hope you enjoy this one. Please leave a review and let me know any comments you have. Thank you for sticking with me!**_

 _ **"Suilaid" means "Greetings"**_

 ** _"Elen sila lumen omentielvo" means "A star shines on the hour of our meeting"_**

 ** _"Dol lost lin" means "Your head is empty"_**

 ** _"Ti tallbe Orck" means "Go kiss an Orc"_**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: The Long Trek

The weather seemed to be on their side; it hardly rained, the days were warm, and the nights cool.

Gandalf lead the party, with Legolas following closely, his sharp eyes ever-watchful. Gimli was close behind the Elf, grumbling every now and then. Then came the Hobbits, Frodo, Merry, Pippin, and Same, who was leading one of their pack ponies, Bill. Boromir trailed after them, his gray eyes darting behind him, to Iliana, who lead the other saddle pony. Aragorn brought up the rear, his blue-gray eyes distant.

One evening, as they gathered around the fire, Gandalf told them of their plan. "We must hold to this course," he said slowly, puffing his long pipe, "west of the Misty Mountains, for 40 days. If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there, our road turns east to Mordor."

They took turns on watch at night, three of them taking shifts one night, three the next, and so on. Iliana liked keeping watch; it gave her time to think.

But the third night of their journey was not Iliana's watch, and sleep evaded her. She glanced around at the rest of the Fellowship; the Hobbits were snoring softly, huddled near the dying embers of the fire. Gimli grunted in his sleep a short distance from her, rolling over beneath his blanket. Both Legolas and Aragorn were sleeping sitting up, their backs to massive boulders. Gandalf slept near Frodo, his eyes open despite his slumber. Boromir, the watchman for this hour, sat perched on a separate boulder, leaning against a tree that grew behind the stone.

Iliana rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, knowing that she needed it. But no matter how hard she tried, she just could not go to sleep. Letting out a near-silent huff, she threw her blanket from her body and stood, stepping over Merry to stoke the fire a little. She felt Boromir's eyes on her as she moved to wrap her blanket around her shoulders.

She silently climbed the boulder and sat beside him, staring at the stars.

"Can't sleep?" he asked in a low whisper, their shoulders touching.

"It evades me this night," she admitted, shivering slightly. It was the coldest night yet, and she was grateful for his body heat, as he was for hers.

"Something troubles you?"

Iliana glanced to see him looking directly at her. She stared at the fire that was slowly coming back to life. "Something troubles us all," she replied, adjusting her blanket tighter around herself.

They sat in silence for a while, each staring out across the lands.

"It is my turn to apologize," Iliana said suddenly, startling even herself. When Boromir looked at her, she could feel her cheeks redden and hoped her couldn't see it. "For the way I acted the last night in Rivendell. I was out of line to behave so viciously."

He titled his head slightly, a grin on his face. "Vicious is a very harsh word," he mused. "It's the right word, but still."

Iliana glanced at him and relaxed when she saw him smiling.

"So, care to explain your outburst, Lady Iliana?" he asked softly, adjusting on the boulder's hard surface.

Iliana thought about it for a while. She looked at him, her smile gone. "You insulted my mentor."

"Aragorn?" he scoffed lightly, his brow furrowed slightly.

"He rescued me from two trolls when I was six," she explained. "They had already eaten my family and were discussing how to…how to cook me." She found that her throat had gone dry; she hadn't spoken of that day to anyone in two decades. "Aragorn saved me and brought me to Lord Elrond. I spent a year under his care, then Aragorn took me as his apprentice. I've been following him for twenty years." She smiled, her eyes distant. "He's like a brother to me, the only family I have."

It was quiet for a long while as Boromir gazed at her. "So," he said, breaking the silence, "that explains your anger towards me. What about your tears that night?"

Iliana drew her knees to her chest, her arms folded between her thighs and abdomen. "That tree you found me at?" He nodded. "That was the tree I'd planted for my family. Sitting there, it feels like I'm with them…yet I cannot recall what they look like…" She trailed off, furious with herself.

Not knowing what to say, Boromir set one hand on her knee, giving her comfort the only way he knew how. She smiled at him and stood. "I think I can sleep now," she said, hopping down. "Good night."

She was almost to her rest area when he called her. She looked back at him to see him standing, one hand holding onto a branch of the tree. "Your apology has been accepted, my lady," he whispered.

Iliana smiled at him, and at once all the troubles that were between them vanished. "Good night, Boromir."

"Two, one five," Boromir said as he sparred with Pippin. "Good! Very good." He had been teaching the Hobbits to defend themselves for the past two days.

Frodo and Sam were holding tin plates, watching their friends. Legolas stood on a boulder, scanning the area. Gandalf was sitting, smoking his pipe with Gimli nearby. Aragorn was cleaning this sword, a pipe clutched between his teeth, his eyes on the sparring trio. Iliana was grooming her mare, Neva. She glanced up occasionally and smiled at the Hobbits.

Boromir looked up from Merry and Pippin and smiled at her, and at that moment his blow managed to slip lower than he intended, and he hit Merry's hand instead of the blade.

"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not, I'd say we're taking the long way around," Gimli complained to Gandalf.

Iliana toned him out; Gimli had been complaining for a few days about not going through Moria. She concentrated on Neva, making sure that her coat was smooth as velvet.

"What is that?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," Gimli answered. "Just a wisp of cloud."

Iliana looked up, spying what they were talking about.

"It's moving fast," Boromir said, looking up from wrestling with Merry and Pippin. "Against the wind…"

Legolas, who was perched atop a boulder, looked closer. "Crebain from Dunland!" he yelled, leaping gracefully from the rock.

"Hide!" Aragorn yelled, grabbing Frodo and ducking behind the boulders as the Crows approached.

Iliana dropped the grooming rag and ran to Sam's side as he was extinguishing the small cook-fire. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and scooted them both under an overhand as much as she could. "Don't make a sound," she breathed in his ear as the other hid.

The Fellowship held their breath for what seemed like ages as Saruman's spies flew overhead. Iliana glanced around, not moving an inch, and caught Boromir's eye. He inclined his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Finally, the threat was gone, and they slowly slid from their hiding places.

"Saruman's spies," Gandalf spat, straightening up. "The passage south is being watched."

Iliana helped Sam stand, squeezing his shoulder lightly. She had grown fond of the little Hobbit, admiring his bravery and loyalty. She gave him a reassuring smile before moving to Neva. Picking up the discarded rag, she whispered calming things to the mare as Gandalf spoke to them. "We must take the Pass of Caradhras."

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _ **Happy Friday! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I have good personal news: I recently got a job in the field I went to college for, and I start this coming Tuesday (yay me!). I will still be uploading every Friday, just may possibly be later in the day than I usually do.**_

 _ **Guest: I apologize that you didn't seem to enjoy my story, and I am sorry you feel that way. I hope you continue to read and get some enjoyment from my writings, but if you don't, I fully understand. My work may not be for everyone.**_

 _ **Anyway, read and review please. I hope you enjoy it, and have a great weekend!**_


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: The Pass and The Lake

Cold had never truly bothered Iliana. She'd traveled through icy rain storms, half-frozen nights, and it had never bothered her. Yet all her travels could not prepare her for the burning cold of the mountain. Wind tore at her skin, leaving it red and sore. The snow blinded her. And when the icy flakes managed to slip past her clothes, it froze her to her bones. She took to wrapping her cloak around her lower face and neck, keeping her hood drawn to protect her.

She knew the Hobbits had it worse off. Their feet, though tough and calloused, must still be almost frozen. Merry and Pippin huddled together as they walked in front of Iliana, their teeth chattering. Sam walked next to her, and she could see how he was trying to be strong and not show how cold he really was.

The sun was bright, though it did little to warm them as they wearily stomped through the hard-packed snow. Gandalf still lead the way, Legolas and Gimli following closely. Sam and Iliana each held onto their ponies, who were shivering more than the Fellowship.

"Frodo!" Aragorn's yell made the group stop as the Hobbit began rolling down the slope. Boromir reached out but missed the rolling Hobbit. After a few more panic-filled moments, Frodo rolled directly to Aragorn's feet. The Ranger helped him up, dusting off the Ring Bearer. Iliana began to relax until she saw Frodo's eyes go wide as he searched under his clothes.

 _"He's dropped it!"_ her thoughts screamed as she dropped the lead for the pony and began walking quickly towards the two.

Suddenly, Boromir bent over and picked something from the snow. It was the Ring! He stared at it, captivated, as Iliana approached. She kept her hand on her sword as she walked with Boromir the remaining few steps to Aragorn and Frodo. The Gondorian gazed at the golden band with a burning lust.

"Boromir," Aragorn urged, his green-gray eyes a storm as he watched his fellow Man, his hand gripping his own sword.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt," Boromir breathed, his brow furrowed, "over so small a thing." Slowly, he reached his other hand out to grab it. "Such a little thing…"

"Boromir!" Aragorn said again, this time in warning. The Gondorian Man jerked in response. "Give the Ring to Frodo."

His voice brought Boromir out of his trance, and he looked around him, his eyes meeting Iliana's. she saw longing and shame etched within them. He stared at her as his grip loosened on the chain. "As you wish," he said, holding it out. Frodo quickly snatched it away, tucking it beneath his shirt again. "I care not." Boromir's eyes flashed to the Ring once more before it disappeared. He forced a chuckle and mussed Frodo's hair before turning and rejoining the Fellowship.

Iliana relaxed her grip on her sword, her emerald eyes moving to Aragorn's. _"No diriel,"_ he said in Elvish, releasing the hilt of his own blade. Iliana nodded, touching Frodo's shoulder before turning and trekking up to Sam and the ponies.

The Hobbit handed her the lead rope that she has dropped. "Everything all right with Master Frodo?" he asked, his voice low.

Iliana's eyes darted up to Boromir, who was in front of them and within hearing distance. The Man half turned and met her gaze. "Fine," Iliana said, her voice hoarse from lack of use. "Just lost his footing."

Boromir's eyes flashed something before he turned away, and they continued until Gandalf called for camp. They were near a solid wall of mountain, which Gandalf said they'd be climbing in the morning. With the last of the daylight remaining, the Fellowship began to make camp.

They huddled around a fire that was built against the wall of rock. Boromir and Aragorn had taken the spare blankets and fastened them up, creating a barrier between the group and the wind and snow. Frodo and Sam were fast asleep, curled into little balls beneath their own blankets. Gandalf was speaking with Legolas about the journey ahead. Gimli was sitting outside the tent of watch, his grumbling carrying through the blankets. Aragorn was leaning against the rock, his eyes closed though Iliana knew he wasn't sleeping. Boromir stared into the flames as if they were about to consume him. Merry and Pippin were eating, though they looked as if they would fall asleep in their bowls at any moment.

Letting out a silent breath, Iliana grabbed her pack and stood, crouching low as she walked to the tent's exit. As she passed Aragorn, she touched his shoulder. _"I'm going to clean up,"_ she whispered in Elvish, slipping beneath the blankets and out into the night.

The wind had died down, and the moon shone brightly on the snow, making the landscape glitter. Nodding toward Gimli, who raised a hand in greeting, she began walking around the corner of the mountain. Before they made camp, she had spotted a small pile of snow, large enough to conceal herself behind.

She hurried behind the mound, thankful that the lack of wind made it seem less cold. With a deep breath, she dropped her pack. Taking another breath to steel herself against the cold, she began to undress, pulling off her cloak, armor, and mail. She laid out her blanket and stood on it after removing her boots and stockings, talking off her breeches and shirt as well.

When she was completely naked, she began scrubbing her body with snow. She bit her lip to keep from crying out against the cold. Quick as she could, she cleaned herself. Once satisfied, she pulled on fresh stockings the color of green apples. Over them, she tugged on breeches that were black as night. She pulled on her knee-high boots, adjusting the laces tightly.

As her teeth were beginning to chatter, she pulled on a sheer white camisole. Over that, she adjusted a thick, billowy-sleeved shirt the same color as her eyes. She sat down on the blanket, unbraiding her hair as she stared up at the moon.

"What is that mark on your shoulder?" asked a low voice.

Gasping, she twirled up, her sword drawn as she prepared for an attack. When she saw that it was Boromir, she slowly relaxed her stance. "How long have you been there?" she demanded. Her hair swung loosely, a wave of red=gold behind her.

His eyes caught in the moonlight. "Not long," he said, stepping forward. He gently reached out a hand and touched the hand that still held her sword up. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, gently pushing her hand down.

Giving him a small glare, she spun away from him, sheathing her sword. "I don't like being snuck up on," she hissed, her back to him.

"My apologies," he said, sounding half-amused.

Iliana glanced over her should and saw him leaning against the mound of snow, his eyes dancing. "What do you want?" she demanded. She began folding and packing her clothes. As she shoved her shirt into the pack, her hair got caught. "Damn hair," she hissed.

"Why don't you cut it?" he asked, watching her.

Refusing to look at him, she fastened her pack. "I keep it braided usually," she answered. "But it it's like that for too long, it causes a headache." She straightened, arching her back to loosen her muscles.

When he spoke, the closeness of his voice surprised her. "I think it's beautiful," he said as she turned to look at him. He was a few inches from her. "Iliana." Her name was barely a breath as he ran a hand through her hair, her heart beat quickening at his touch. She closed her eyes briefly, taking a shuddering breath.

When she opened her eyes, he was still staring at her, his eyes searching hers. He inched forward slightly, but before their lips met, she pulled back, startled by the feather-light flakes that had begun drifting around them.

Smiling softly, she looked to the sky. "It's snowing," she whispered, taking a step back. Her heart was throbbing in her chest. When she looked back down, Boromir was gone, his footprints in the snow the only indication that he'd been there at all.

Glaring at the prints, she snatched up the rest of her things and trekked the short distance back to the group. When she ducked inside the tent, the Hobbits, Gandalf, Legolas, and Boromir were all asleep. Aragorn was leaning against the stone wall, much the same as when she left. He arched an eyebrow at her and gave a look to her unbound hair, but she ignored it, curling up beside Sam and Frodo. She wrapped herself in her blanket, which still had snow on it, and closed her eyes. Within moments, she was asleep.

She dreamt of storm-gray eyes, a deep laugh, the clash of swords, yelling voices, the twang of a bow, chattering screeches, and, most terrible of all, an echoing roar that shook her, even in her sleep.

The little flakes of snow that Iliana had admired during the night turned into a blizzard as they began climbing the steep slopes. The winds attacked them, whipping snow, ice, and cloaks into their faces. Gandalf lead the way, waist deep in snow. Gimli followed, the snow up to his shoulders. Legolas walked above the snow, his Elf feet refusing to let him sink beneath the surface. Boromir followed the Dwarf, Merry and Pippin clinging to him. Iliana followed close behind, Sam on her back, shivering against her. Strider was last, holding onto Frodo and leading the two ponies, who squealed above the storm.

The snow was so cold, it burned Iliana's skin as it was flung into her face. Her eyes stung, glaring through the storm as they trekked. The ground beneath their feet shook, and it felt like the entire mountain would come down on top of them.

Legolas darted ahead, his silvery-blond hair whipping back. "There is a fell voice on the air," he told them, his lyrical voice floating back on the winds.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf yelled back, snow entangled in his beard. Suddenly, a piece of the mountain above cracked and broke off, heading straight for them.

Iliana quickly slipped Sam from her back, pressing him against the mountain wall as the others did the same. The pieces of stone and ice crashed around them. A rock the size of a melon clipped Iliana's shoulder, causing her to cry out.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn yelled, protecting Frodo from the stones. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

The old wizard shook his head, pushing himself away from the wall. "No!" he yelled, climbing on top of the snow. Raising his staff in one hand, he chanted in Elvish, _"Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i raith!"_

For a moment, it seemed like his spell would work. Boromir set the two Hobbits down and weeded through the snow, back to Iliana, who was cradling her left arm to her chest.

"You're hurt," he said, touching her shoulder.

She hissed in pain, closing her eyes. Suddenly, an echoing voice erupted in the air. Iliana felt a tingle go down her spine as it spoke. _"Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse! Nai yarvaxea rasselya taltuva notto-carinna!"_ As the voice finished echoing, lightning struck the mountain directly above them, sending snow and rocks avalanching towards them.

Iliana gasps, pushing Sam back against the wall. She looked as Legolas snatched Gandalf back. The snow was almost upon them when Boromir slammed into her, pressing them both against the stone wall. The avalanche hit them, completely burying them all. Iliana felt herself get pulled away from Sam and Boromir as she was crushed under the snow.

Her mind went numb from the pain of the ice against her skin. It was beyond freezing as it slipped down her shirt and into her mouth. She couldn't breathe! She was drowning in frozen ice.

Above her, she could just barely make out the others calling her name. her mind cleared suddenly, and she felt a warmth seeping through her. Planting her legs firmly beneath her, she used all her strength, screaming, _**"LET ME GO!"**_

The ice and snow flew off her as she stood, her hood coming down and hair flying loose from the braid. Suddenly, she felt dizzy and weak, and her injured shoulder throbbed. She managed to focus in on Boromir's face for a moment before her legs gave out and her vision faded. She felt someone catch her and keep her from falling. A voice directly above her began speaking, and she heard his voice echo through his chest. "We must get off the mountain!" Boromir called above the storm. "Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

Iliana's mind began to clear, and strength began returning to her limbs. She opened her eyes and saw Boromir glancing worriedly at her. When he saw her awake, he helped her stand as Aragorn spoke.

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" the Ranger called.

Iliana stepped away from Boromir, embarrassed by her weakness. She checked on Sam, who was shivering next to Merry and Pippin.

"We cannot pass over a mountain," Gimli spoke up. "Let us go under it! Let us go through the Mines of Moria."

Iliana glanced up to see Gandalf looking at each of them as if he were calculating. He clenched his jaw, and when he spoke, it barely reached the others over the storm. "Let the Ring Bearer decide." He looked to the Hobbit by Aragorn. "Frodo?"

Iliana and the others looked to the little Hobbit as he weighed his choices. "We will go through the mines," he said.

Iliana glanced back at the wizard and just barely heard him say, "So be it."

They traveled down to the base of the mountain as fast as they could. As soon as they saw the last bit of snow, they all felt just a little bit lighter; even the ponies didn't struggle so much.

As they walked, Boromir slipped into step next to Iliana. "How is your shoulder?" he asked.

She flexed her arm, testing it. "Better," she said. "A little sore."

"I'm glad it's better," he said. When she gave him a look, he cleared his throat. "You wouldn't be very useful if you couldn't use that sword of yours." He sped up, catching back up to Merry and Pippin.

Iliana smiled, shaking her head as Sam fell in step beside her. "How did you do that?" he asked quietly. "Back on the mountain? How did you unbury yourself?"

Iliana glanced at him. "I just told the snow to get off me," she said.

"Like magic?" Sam asked, watching her closely.

She smiled. "I can't use magic, Sam. I'm not a witch, or an Elf."

"But your ears…" he trailed off. "It looked a lot like magic to **me**."

To Iliana's relief, he dropped the subject.

"The Walls of Moria," Gimli breathed, his voice awed at the sight ahead of them.

Iliana thought it looked just like the mountain top without snow, but she didn't dare tell that to Gimli. As they approached the Walls, she glanced at the sky, saying goodbye to the mood for a little while. Every sound echoed across the lake, each stumbling pebble sounding like thunder until it stopped rolling.

Frodo lost his footing for a moment, stumbling into the water. A small ripple branched out as the group continued.

Finally, they reached the Walls. Iliana began unpacking Vera, urging Sam to do the same with Bill.

"Well, let's see…" Gandalf muttered. " _Ithildire_ …"

Iliana began separating the supplies into equal packs for them all as Gandalf tried different spells to open the doors. Sam helped her.

"Why are we doing this?" he asked.

"The Mines are no place for a pony," Iliana told him. "Even ones so brave as ours."

Sam nodded, rubbing Bill affectionately. Iliana smiled at the Hobbit. "Don't worry, Sam. They'll find their way home."

They took the tack and leads off the ponies, releasing them.

"Bye-bye, Bill," Sam muttered, watching the two ponies wander towards the grass.

A splash behind them startle Whisper, and she looked to see Merry and Pippin tossing rocks into the lake. The echoing sound made her uneasy. Pippin was just about to launch another when Aragorn stopped him by the arm.

"Do not disturb the water," Aragorn hissed.

The two Hobbits dropped their stones, watching the water and the ripples.

"It's a riddle!" Frodo said, standing and approaching the entrance, which was glowing. "'Speak 'friend' and enter'. What's the Elvish word for 'friend'?"

 _"Melon,"_ Gandalf said, and the doors swung open with a low rumble.

Gimli stood, his pipe hanging from one of his hands, pride written in his eyes as the others stared in awe.

As they began walking inside, Gimli began bragging about Moria. "Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves," he said. "Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone!"

Iliana edged inside, keeping one hand on her sword. Something about the place made her skin crawl. _"Shouldn't the Dwarves have heard us and come to greet Gimli?"_ she wondered.

Gandalf lit the crystal in his staff.

"This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin," Gimli continued. "And they call it a mine. A mine!"

Iliana's eyes fell on the bodies that littered the stairs, corpses half-rotted away.

"This is no mine," Boromir whispered. "It's a tomb!"

The others finally noticed the bones beneath their feet. The Hobbits uttered half-moans as they gasped, trying to avoid the dead. Gimli gasped as he ran to one of the bodies, bellowing out a massive roar of anguish.

Legolas knelt next to a corpse and plucked an arrow from the body. It took him less than a moment to inspect it. "Goblins," he hissed, drawing his bow and standing. His usually smiling face was now grim as he waited for any sign of the enemy.

The two Men drew their swords, and Iliana readied her bow.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan," Boromir urged, Aragorn glancing at him. "We should never have come here. Now, get out of here. Get out!" He glanced to Iliana, watching as she took a step backwards.

Frodo suddenly fell as his feet were yanked out from under him, and he began sliding across the ground.

 _"He's being dragged!"_ Iliana thought as the other three Hobbits tried to pull him back.

"Aragorn!" Iliana yelled, rushing forward as Sam cut a massive tentacle that clutched Frodo's foot.

A roar echoed from the water, and more tentacles launched out of the water, knocking the three Hobbits and Iliana to the ground. Groaning, Iliana got to her feet again and tried to catch Frodo's hand as he was hauled into the air. She missed, and went sprawling into the water, scraping her hands on the rocks.

"Aragorn!" Frodo howled, handing upside down.

Legolas looked arrows as Aragorn and Boromir sliced through the flailing tentacles, trying to get to Frodo. The Hobbit was held higher in the air as the monster's head broke the surface of the water. He yelled when he saw the thing's mouth open.

Iliana saw an opening, and slashed the limb holding Frodo. He began to fall, and Boromir caught him, nearly falling over.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf yelled from the shore. The three Hobbits and Gimli stood next to him, and they turned and began sprinting inside.

Aragorn reached out and grabbed Iliana's hand as she stumbled, tugging her along with him.

"Legolas!" Boromir called as the monster started gaining on them. The Elf fired another shot, and it roared in rage and pain.

"Into the cave!" Aragorn urged, running beside Iliana as the Fellowship dove into the darkness. The monster pulled itself out of the water by its tentacles, but its weight caused the stone doors to crumble. Soon, the entire doorway was caved in, Iliana and Aragorn diving out of the way as the last stones fell.

The group stood in total darkness, breathing heavily. Iliana leaned back on the floor, her head resting against Aragorn's ribs. Her blood pounded in her ears as she caught her breath.

"We now have but one choice," Gandalf said, lighting the crystal again.

A dim light filled the cavern around them. Iliana saw Boromir staring at her as she leaned against Aragorn, who was still breathing heavily. She couldn't read the Gondorian's expression before he turned away.

"We must face the long dark of Moria," Gandalf said, his long hair shielding his eyes.

Legolas helped Iliana to stand, his eyes sparkling even in the dark.

"Be on your guard," Gandalf continued. "There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world."

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 ** _"No diriel" means "Be watchful"_**

 ** _"Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, neuitho i 'raith" means "Sleep, Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold (your) wrath"_**

 ** _"_ _"Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse! Nai yarvaxea rasselya taltuva notto-carinna!" means "Wake up cruel Redhorn! May it be your blood-stained horn shall fall upon the enemy-heads!"_**

 ** _mycarnation: thank you so very much for your defense! You have no idea how much I appreciate it! And yes, this is shaping up to be a Boromir romance, just slowly (I hope). Thank you for the congratulations on the job. This first week was tough, but I love it._**

 ** _PageKat: Here you go! I hope you like it!_**

 ** _I will be updating on Sundays from now on, due to my work schedule. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review!_**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Moria

Iliana's eyes quickly adjusted to the low light as they followed Gandalf through the mines. They had been walking through the corridors and other passageways for over two days, occasionally stopping to rest and eat. Rarely did they speak, for every whisper was an echoing shout within the cavernous mine.

To the dismay of them all, Gandalf lost his way. While the old wizard thought it out and spoke with Frodo, the others took the moment to relax. The other three Hobbits leaned against rocks twice their size. Gimli smoked his pipe, his eyes closed. Legolas and Aragorn conversed quietly in Elvish, glancing around. Boromir stared off in the darkness.

Iliana sighed, feeling restless. She stood from her perch, stepping beside Aragorn. "I'm going to scout," she whispered. "Make sure no one is following."

 _"No diriel,"_ he whispered, nodding as she slipped away.

Her soft boots made no sound as she scouted, one of her long-knives clutched firmly in her right hand. As she walked, she skittered around more Dwarf bones, the decaying smell almost gagging her. She said a silent prayer, hoping that the dead found peace.

Suddenly, a noise behind her made her tense. She pressed her back against the wall, her knife ready. She heard breathing and swung her blade. Almost too late, she stopped when she saw it was Boromir, his hands raised in surrender.

 _"Man carel le?!"_ she hissed, lowering her blade. She glared at him as she sheathed it at her leg.

"What?" he whispered, stepping forward.

She huffed. "You really need to learn Elvish," she told him. "What are you doing here?" she repeated in the Common Tongue.

He gave her a crooked smirk. "Making sure you don't wander off."

Her eyes blazed in the darkness. They began shining, much like that of a cat's. "You foolish Man…" Repressing a growl, she pushed past him and was about to head back to the others when he stopped her.

"What is that mark on your back?"

She turned to face him, her eyes narrowed. "It's a scar," she said. "I've had it for years."

He regarded her carefully. "A scar in the perfect shape of a hand and a crescent moon?" he asked. His look was skeptical. "I don't think so." When she turned to go again, he spoke. "I think you're half Elf, half something else. Not Man, that's for sure."

Iliana spun around and pushed him, slamming him against the wall. She pressed herself against him, glaring, her eyes bright. "It doesn't matter what my parentage is, Gondorian," she hissed. "No matter what I am, I can tear you limb from limb without breaking a sweat." She pushed herself off his body. "I doubt anyone would miss you."

She turned and hurried back to the others, refusing to let his words bother her. Her hood fell, and her brain tumbled down her back as she slowed to a walk just before reaching the group. Aragorn and Legolas were still speaking. Their eyes found hers, and she moved to stand between them.

 _"Aniral sogad?"_ Legolas asked, handing her his water bag.

She took a long sip, lowering it from her lips as Boromir returned. She ignored him and smiled at Legolas. _"Le hannon,"_ she thanked him, handing it back.

"Oh!" Gandalf exclaimed, rousing them all. "It's that way." He nodded down a tunnel.

"He's remembered!" Merry said, standing.

"No," Gandalf replied, "but the air doesn't smell so foul here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

Iliana felt exhausted. She was tired of breathing the stale air of the mines, tired of the dark. She'd lost track of the hours they'd been in the mines. She hadn't slept since before Boromir said she was Half-Elf, however long ago that had been.

Gandalf stopped, and the others gathered around him. "Let me risk a little more light," he said, raising his staff and illuminating the cavern. "Behold," he said as the other gasped, "the great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf."

The pillars were massive, the carving etched beautifully in the stone.

Beside Iliana, Sam mumbled, "There's an eye opener, and no mistake."

Iliana smiled to herself before she moved to Legolas.

 _"Man anirach cerin an le?"_ he asked, his cobalt eyes bright as he gazed around the Hall.

 _"I need to ask you about Half-Elves,"_ she said in the Elvish language.

His eyes moved to hers, and she blushed, lowering her gaze. _"What is it?"_ he asked.

 _"Can you tell when someone is a Half_Elf?"_ she asked quickly before she lost her nerve. Everyone else was walking again, and she knew their voices wouldn't carry to Aragorn or Gandalf.

Legolas gave her a fleeting smile. _"You want to know if you're Half_Elf, don't you?"_ She nodded, and he reached up and ran a finger over her ears, which were a little less pointed than his. _"Lady Iliana, you absolutely have Elf blood in you. And I am honored to say such."_ He inclined his head, his eyes dancing.

She thanked him and walked on, deep in thought. _"Half-Elf?"_ she thought. _"But what's the other half? How did I get out of the snow? And my shoulder?"_ She blinked away tears, angry that her memories of her family were all lies.

Suddenly, they came upon a room, and Gimli paused before racing into it, Gandalf calling after him. When he didn't come back, the others followed. They found him kneeling in front of a stone casket. The room was littered with Dwarf skeletons and destroyed books.

"No," Gimli moaned, kneeling and staring at the casket.

" 'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria'," Gandalf red. Gimli let his forehead rest against the stone casket, moaning. "He is dead, then. It's as I feared."

As Gandalf bent to pick up an ancient book, his wizard's staff and hat in the hands of Pippin, Legolas stepped towards Iliana and Aragorn. "We must move on," he said. "We cannot linger."

Iliana nodded and slowly walked towards one corner of the room, inspecting the skeletons as Gandalf began to read. " 'They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates but cannot fold them for long. The ground shakes, drums…drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow lurks in the dark. We cannot get out…they are coming."

Iliana felt a chill go down her spine at the words, and she looked over to meet the eyes of Boromir. She was certain her saw the same concern reflected in her eyes as she saw in his. He inclined his head, and she felt guilty for her words.

The sudden and echoing crash made everyone jump and hold their breath as Pippin knocked over a bucket and a skeleton. The mess clanged noisily as it fell, the sound ringing all around them. Iliana saw Pippin wince with each clatter.

Finally, once all was quiet again, everyone let out the breath they were holding. Blood pounded in Iliana's ears as she strained to listen for any sound.

Gandalf slammed the book shut. "Fool of a Took!" he growled, snatching away his things. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

Iliana felt relief for a split second, smiling softly at Pippin.

Then they heard the drums.

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _ **"No diriel" means "Be watchful"**_

 _ **"Man carel le" means "What are you doing"**_

 _ **"Aniral sogad" means "Do you want a drink"**_

 _ **"Le hannon" means "Thank you"**_

 ** _"Man anirach cerin an le" means "What can I do for you"_**

 ** _Well, it's not Friday or Sunday, so last week's update is a little late, and I apologize. This chapter is short, but I still hope you enjoy it. The next chapter will be uploaded Friday, I promise! Thank you for sticking with me!_**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

Frodo drew his sword, which was glowing bright blue. He looked up at Gandalf, his eyes wide. In the distance, they heard the screeching.

"Orcs!" Legolas said, and they all began moving at once.

"Get back!" Aragorn told the Hobbits. "Stay close to Gandalf!"

Boromir sprinted to the door, looking out. Iliana watched as he flinched back, two arrows embedded in the wood where his head had been a moment before. A loud squeal echoed as he pulled back inside and shut the thick doors. He leaned against them briefly. "They have a cave troll," he said, eyes dating around to each of the. Boromir and Aragorn blocked the doors with long axes that Legolas tossed them.

Iliana drew her bow and readied it, standing on top of one of the fallen columns. Legolas did the same on the other side of the room. Once the door was barricaded, the two Men stepped back. Aragorn drew his bow and stood next to Legolas. Boromir stood on the other side, shield ready and sword drawn.

Gimli roared as he climbed atop the casket, planting his feet wide. "Let them come," he growled. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath."

Iliana chanced a glance behind her and saw the Hobbits behind Gandalf, the lot of them with swords drawn. She then met Boromir's eyes, and they shared a smirk.

As the Orcs began to tear down the doors, the three archers loosed arrows, the resulting shrieks letting them know they hit their targets. Without warning, the doors gave way, and the horde of Orcs rushed in.

Iliana dropped her bow behind the pillar and drew her sword, leaping in front of an Orc. She parried and dodged, slicing through the hideous creatures as they flooded the throne room. She caught sight of Gimli hacking off the Orcs' heads as they came near, and she smiled, pleased that he was getting his justice.

 _"Tiro!"_ Legolas yelled, and Iliana ducked as he looked an arrow to the Orc behind her. When she nodded thanks, he smiled and turned to fire again.

 _"Gurth 'ni yrch!"_ she yelled, swinging her blade and gutting one of the creatures. She was beginning to feel confident of herself and the others when a massive beast smashed into the room, taking out half the doorframe with it. It roared, it's beady eyes sweeping the room. Legolas loosed an arrow, and it embedded in the cave troll's right shoulder. That only made it angrier as it swung its club at Sam, who dove between its legs.

Iliana swung her sword around, decapitating an Orc behind her. She let out a bark of laughter as the severed head stuck it's tongue out at her. She leapt onto the pillar and snatched up her bow, fitting arrows into it. She took out an Orc surrounding Gandalf. She then killed two of them as they swarmed Sam, who was now using his skillet to back the Orcs' heads.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Legolas standing on the troll's shoulders. He fired two shots into its skill, but the arrows just bounced off. After he jumped down, she loosed her own arrows into its back as Gimli attacked its legs. It swung around, batting Aragorn across the room. Iliana started to run to him with Sam yelled, "Frodo!"

Iliana looked and saw the spear pierce Frodo's heart, and she felt her own stop. Anger filled her then, and she attacked every Orc that continued through the door, her bow and sword forgotten as her twin knives became a blur as she danced through the advancing Orcs.

Finally, the onslaught of Orcs stopped, and she turned just in time to see the cave troll fall, flinging Pippin from its back. She ran to him, as did Merry. "Are you hurt?" she asked, and they shook their curly heads. They all turned to see Aragorn crawl to Frodo and turn him over.

To everyone's surprise, the Hobbit was alive!

"He's alive," Sam said, relief evident in his crystal blue eyes.

Frodo sat up, hand on his chest. "I'm all right," he panted. "I'm not hurt."

They all stared at him, amazed.

"You should be dead," Aragorn said, his eyes wide. "That spear would've skewered a wild boar."

Iliana smiled, and leaned against Boromir in relief. The Man smiled at her and clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf said, leaning against a wall, his eyes sparkling with wisdom.

Frodo opened his shirt, and they all stared at the gleaming mail underneath.

"Mithril!" Gimli gasped. "You are full of surprised, Master Baggins."

They all stood there for a moment, breathing in relief. Then screeching echoed through the halls, and they tensed. Iliana snatched up her bow and sword, adjusting them both where they belong.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dum!" Gandalf hissed.

Aragorn helped Frodo to his feet, and they all started running, following the wizard as he led them through the halls. Iliana urged Sam to hurry and not look back as Orcs crawled from the wood work. In the middle of the Dwarf hall, Orcs surrounded them, leering at them with ugly, greasy faces.

"Be ready," Aragorn hissed to Iliana as she gripped her sword, stepping in front of Sam.

A sudden growling made all the Orcs go quiet for a moment, then chatter in fear as a burning light illuminated the hall in the distance. The Orcs scattered, paying no mind to the Fellowship anymore as they scrambled over each other. Iliana felt herself grow cold as the terrible sound from her nightmares echoed through the mines.

"What new devilry is this?" Boromir asked Gandalf.

The old wizard closed his eyes, his expression painful as their eyes darted between him and the growing light.

"A Balrog," Gandalf said at length, his voice laced with venom. "A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you." He turned and gestured to the way opposite of the demon. "Run!"

They all ran, faster than before, slipping through a doorway. Whisper caught sight of a maze of stairs, narrow and built with empty caverns on each side. Boromir raced forward and nearly fell off an edge that had broken. Legolas pulled him back to safety.

Gandalf leaned heavily against a wall, Aragorn pausing to help. Gandalf put a hand on his shoulder. "Lead them on, Aragorn," Gandalf said. "The bridge is near." When Aragorn moved to pull Gandalf along, the wizard pushed him forward. "Do as I say! Swords are of no more use here!"

Legolas and Boromir lead them down the stairs, Gandalf behind them all. They stopped at a small gap where the stairs had fallen away. Legolas leapt across easily, then motioned for the others to follow. Gandalf leapt as Orcs began firing arrows across the chasm.

Boromir scooped up Merry and Pippin and leapt across with them, Legolas catching onto his tunic to make sure they didn't fall backwards. As Boromir leapt, another section of stairs fell away, causing Gimli, Aragorn, Sam, Iliana, and Frodo to back up.

"Sam?" Aragorn called, and he flung the Hobbit across the gap to Boromir's grasp. Aragorn turned to Gimli.

"No one tosses a Dwarf!" he growled and leapt. His boots didn't quite make it, and as he was falling backwards, Legolas clapped onto his thick beard. "Not the beard!" Gimli howled as Legolas pulled him up.

Iliana clasped Aragorn's shoulder briefly, then launched herself across the gap. She landed easily, Boromir's hands grabbing her shoulder and her waist. She glanced back and saw that the gap had gotten bigger. There was no was that they could jump that.

A thundering footstep made the entire mountain tremble, and a large piece of the ceiling crashed down behind Aragorn and Frodo.

"Steady," Aragorn urged as their narrow strip of stairs began to sway. "Hang on!" They both leaned forward to try and manipulate the fall of the stone. Finally, it seemed to be working. Legolas and Boromir reached out and caught them as their stairs crashed into the others.

With the group together again, they began racing down the stairs. As they ran, Boromir reached out and grabbed Iliana's hand. She looked at him and he squeezed her fingers, holding her tightly. She felt new energy as they hurried.

Finally, there were no more stairs, and they raced across even floor.

"Quickly!" Gandalf yelled, pointing. "Over the bridge!" A wall of fire was at their backs as Boromir and Iliana crossed the narrow bridge first, followed by Aragorn and the Hobbits. Gimli and Legolas were last.

Gandalf stopped in the middle of the bridge and turned, yelling, "You cannot pass!"

The entire group turned, and Iliana's heart went cold when she saw the monster. It was enormous, a great mass of shadow and flame, it's horns terrifying as it roared.

"Gandalf!" Frodo yelled.

The Balrog stood, its wings arching back as is drew a sword of pure fire.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire," Gandalf said, holding his sword in one hand and his staff in the other, "wielder of the Flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun! Go back to the shadows." The creature tried to strike Gandalf with its sword, but the flame shattered as it touched the wizard's own sword. It roared in anger and stepped onto the bridge, drawing a fiery whip. The stone cracked beneath its weight. It flicked the whip, making a deadly pop with its flaming tip. "You shall not pass!" Gandalf roared, raising both his sword and staff, and planting them together on the stone bridge. A blinding light erupted from the staff, shocking even the Balrog. At least for a moment, for it soon recovered and stepped forward.

The stone on the Balrog's half of the bridge instantly crumbled away. The fire creature roared as it fell, its wings useless.

Gandalf turned, his body betraying his exhaustion. As Iliana was about to go meet him, the Balrog's flaming whip wrapped around the wizard's ankle and pulled. Gandalf managed to grip the edge.

"Gandalf!" Frodo yelled.

"Gandalf, no!" screamed Iliana, her voice echoing across the chasm.

"No! No!" Boromir caught Frodo as the Hobbit launched himself forward, Sam behind him.

Legolas caught Gimli and Iliana as they tried darting forward. They all screamed to the old wizard. Aragorn ran forward, but as he reached the edge of the bridge, Gandalf urged, "Fly, you fools!" and let go, falling into the darkness.

"No!" Two cried of anguish could be heard as Frodo and Iliana crumpled.

The three Hobbits followed Gimli up a small flight of stairs. Boromir scooped up a still-screaming Frodo. Legolas lifted a life-less Iliana and took the stairs two at a time. Boromir called to Aragorn, who was still frozen on the spot.

 _"No,"_ Iliana told herself as she tried helping Legolas help her, his arms strong around her shoulders. _"It can't be. Gandalf can't die!"_ Tears streamed down her face as they stepped into daylight.

Her eyes darted around, taking in Pippin and Merry weeping, holding each other, Sam crying into his hands, Gimli struggling against Boromir to get back inside the mines. Iliana looked over her shoulder and saw Aragorn. The grief on his face made all the feeling rush back into her body, and she pushed away from Legolas, feeling the agony crushing down on her.

She walked away, stumbling. Boromir tried to hold her, but she pulled away. Instead, she fell on her knees in front of Sam, making them the same height. They looked at each other and embraced, sharing in the pain and the grief of their loss, both weeping into each other's shoulders.

Iliana opened her eyes and saw Boromir and Legolas watching her, and fresh tears spilt from her eyes.

"Legolas," Aragorn called, "get them up."

The Elf looked at him, then moved to comply.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir growled, glaring at Aragorn.

"By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs!" Aragorn said. "We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. Legolas, Gimli, get them up."

This time, no one objected.

"On your feet, Sam," Iliana said, standing and helping the Hobbit. She squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

"Frodo?" Aragorn called. There was no answer. "Frodo!" They spotted him some short ways away, weeping silently, his head bowed.

Just as the sun was about to set, the remainder or the Fellowship crossed the small stream before the Forrest of Lothlorien. They sprinted towards the trees, Aragorn only slowing the pace once they were many yards into the wood. He led them, followed by Legolas, Gimli, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, then Boromir and Iliana.

"Stay close, young Hobbits!" Gimli whispered loudly. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her spell…and are never seen again."

Boromir gently entwined his fingers with Iliana's, tugging her closer to him. "How are you?" he whispered to her. She just nodded.

"Well there's one Dwarf that she won't ensnare so easily," Gimli continued. "I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

At that moment, a group of Elves melted out of the woods, arrows aimed at each of them.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," said a blond Elf, his dark eyes smirking as Gimli glowered.

Aragorn bowed his head in respect. _"Haldir o Lorien,"_ he said in Elvish. _"Henio aniron boe amen i dulu lin. Boe amen veriad lin."_

"Aragorn," Gimli said, his back stiff. "These woods are perilous. We should go back."

Haldir looked at the Dwarf, his eyes narrow. "You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood," he said. "You cannot go back. Come," he said, his gaze moving to each of them, "she is waiting."

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _ **Happy Friday! As promised, here is the next chapter. Please leave a review!**_

 _ **MasterPlosPadawan104: thank you so very much! I am so glad you enjoy my characters and writing style. It means so very much to me!**_

 _ **"Tiro" means "Look"**_

 _ **"Gurth 'ni yrch" means "Death to the Orcs"**_

 _ **"Haldir o Lorien, Henio aniron boe ammen i dulu lin. Boe ammen veriad lin" means "Haldir of Lorien, we come here for help. We need your protection."**_

 _ **Next chapter will be uploaded next Friday! Thank you very much for sticking with me this far. I hope you enjoy the story. Please let me know what you think, any complaints or comments are welcome and well-received!**_


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Lothlorien

Haldir lead them through the woods, past other Elves, and into a fantastical city grown entirely from the trees. The entire time, Iliana held onto Boromir's hand tightly. He glanced at her, but she refused to meet his eye as they ascended the tree-stairs to meet with the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien.

Haldir stood by the entrance way to the throne room, watching as the other passed. It was only upon nearing him did Iliana release Boromir's hand. Haldir looked at her and whispered, "May I speak with you?"

She nodded, and Boromir continued, glancing back to see Haldir embrace Iliana intimately.

 _"Manen nalge?"_ he asked her.

She shook her head. _"The journey's been hard,"_ she answered in Elvish. _"The mines…"_ She trailed off as tears swarmed her eyes. She blinked, and one escaped.

Haldir reached up and brushed it away. _"Man anirach cerin an le? Aniral toled na gar nin?"_

Iliana pulled back, her eyes sad. _"I can't. things have…things have changed, Haldir."_

He took a step back and his eyes turned hard. _"You mean because of the Man?"_ he asked, his lyrical voice harsher than she's ever heard it. _"You're choosing a Man?"_

Iliana didn't answer, she just looked down.

Haldir took a moment to compose himself. " _The Lady is waiting,"_ he said, turning away.

Taking a deep breath, Iliana moved to stand by Aragorn, her head bowed as the Lord and Lady came down the stairs. They seemed to glow, casting their light on the remaining Fellowship. Both Aragorn and Iliana had their heads bowed in respect as Celeborn and Galadriel came to a stop.

Iliana heard the group gasp when they saw the ethereally lovely Galadriel, and she suppressed a smile.

"Nine there are here, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell," Celeborn said, his voice drifting like music. "Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him?"

Iliana's throat tightened as she saw Aragorn raise his head, his eyes finding Galadriel's.

"He has fallen into Shadow," she whispered. She looked at each of them. "The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little, and it will fail to the ruin of all."

Iliana raised her head, and Galadriel instantly met her gaze. _**"Welcome, Unclaimed Daughter of White. We have much to talk about."**_ The voice echoed inside Iliana's mind. _**"I see your troubled heart, and I see that your destination ends in doom!"**_

Gasping, Iliana looked down, tears in her eyes. She didn't hear another word from Galadriel and dutifully followed the others to their lent quarters.

Iliana stood in the middle of a stream, the warm water coming to her wait as she unbraided her hair. She wore nothing but a chemise, and that was already soaked through. Once her hair was loose, she dove under the water, letting it wash away the dirt from the journey. Just being able to be clean made her feel better, until she resurfaced and heard the Elves singing. Her heart heavy, she joined in, her voice weaving with theirs.

" _In gwidhe ristennin,_

 _I fae narchannen_

 _I Lach Anor ad ardhon gwannen_

 _Mithrandir, Mithrandir! A Randir Vithren!_

 _U-reniathach i amar galen_

 _Ilfirin nairelma nauva i nauva_

 _Ilfirin nairel ma ar ullume nucuvalme_

 _Nauva i nauva melma noren sina nairelma"_

Once she finished bathing, she climbed from the water and stripped the wet material over her head and let it fall against the massive tree trunk. She pulled on a silken robe, cinching it at the waist while she combed out her hair with her fingers.

"Your singing is beautiful," said a voice on the other side of the tree.

"Boromir!" she gasped as he came around to face her. She smiled weakly. "You always find me when I'm bathing."

He smiled back, the smile lasting only a moment. "At least I waited until you're fully dressed this time," he teased.

They sat down on the grass, the trunks and roots of the tree hiding them from the other's sight.

"So, what was the song?" Boromir asked.

Iliana lowered her gaze and softly began to sing.

"The bonds cut

The spirit broken

The Flame of Anor has left this World

Mithrandir, Mithrandir! O Pilgrim Gray!

No more you will wander the Orange world

Your journey has ended in dreams

Undying our regret, what should shall be

Undying our regret and yet we will cast all away

What should shall be, love for this land our regret"

When she stopped, both had tears in their eyes. Boromir looked at Iliana laying down on the grass, weeping. He gently brushed away her tears, and she turned her head, kissing his knuckles.

He leaned down, his body lining up against hers, and gently kissed her lips, his hand moving to her waist. She gripped his tunic and held him close, losing herself in this moment.

Iliana sat on her knees in front of Galadriel, her eyes wide as her hair swung into her face. "No, it…it's not possible," she gasped, looking up at Galadriel. "Tell me it's not true!"

Celeborn and Galadriel looked at her, their eyes sad. "It is true," Galadriel said. "You are our grandchild."

"How?" Iliana demanded. "Arwen doesn't have any sisters!"

"When our daughter, Celebrian, was captured, the Orcs took her to Saruman. He kept her a prisoner there until her twin sons, your brothers, rescued her. On the way to Rivendell, you were born, and left with a family who swore to look after you," Celeborn said, his voice drifting on the wind.

"Then…my father…" Iliana trailed off.

"That is correct," Galadriel said.

"Your father is Saruman the White," Celeborn told her.

It was too much for her. Iliana felt herself grow weak, and the room darkened as she fainted.

When she awoke, she was in the room she secretly shared with Boromir. His horn was on the chair next to the bed. A light blanket covered her, and she instantly felt sick as she sat up.

 _"I can't tell them,"_ she thought to herself. _"There's no way I can tell them!"_

 ** _Author's Note:_**

 ** _"Manen nagle" means "How are you"_**

 ** _"Man anirach cerin an le? Aniral toled na gar nin?" means "What can I do for you? Do you want to come to my house?"_**

 ** _Happy Friday everyone! Sorry this chapter was so short._**

 ** _Horvath70: I'm so pleased you are enjoying my story! Thank you for reading! Yes, this is a Boromir romance, however I cannot spoil anything that may or may not happen in the future. I hope you continue reading!_**

 ** _Next Friday will hold the new chapter. Happy weekend to everyone!_**


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: The River

Iliana sat in the canoe with Boromir and Merry and Pippin, an oar in her hands as they rowed. Next to them on the right paddled Gimli and Legolas. On their left paddled Aragorn, Sam and Frodo sitting in the front. She was thinking of the gifts Galadriel and Celeborn had passed onto her: a mirror that gleamed silvery white, and a large knife. She had thanked them both, promising to return as soon as she could. She caught a glimpse of Haldir as she sat in the boat. His dark eyes were sad as he whispered, _"No galu govad gen."_

They traveled down river, hardly having to steer. They only used the oars to increase their speed, their boats slicing through the water. As they rode, Legolas and Iliana began to sing.

"May it be an evening star

Shines down upon you

May it be when darkness falls

Your heart will be true

You walk a lonely road

Oh how far you are from home

 _Mornie utulie_

Believe and you will find your way

 _Mornie alantie_

A promise lives within you now

May it be the shadow's call

Will fly away

May it be you journey on

To light the day

When the night is overcome

You may rise to find the sun

 _Mornie utulie_

Believe and you will find your way

 _Mornie alantie_

A promise lives within you now

A promise lives within you now"

Their voices intertwined perfectly, creating a beautiful harmony

Iliana glanced behind her, smiling at Boromir. Between the two, Merry and Pippin had fallen asleep.

"Your singing could make a Man die happy," Boromir said, giving her a grin that melted her insides.

She smiled and began singing softly.

" _U i vethed na i onnad…_

 _Si boe a-dhanna_

 _Ae u-esteli, estelio veleth_

 _Estelio hen, estelio han, estelio_

 _Estelio han, estelio veleth"_

Legolas's voice joined hers on the next verse.

" _U i vethed na ionned…_

 _Na boe ui_

 _Esteliach nod, estelio han"_

Legolas broke off in mid-verse, looking towards the forest.

 _"What do you see?"_ Aragorn asked in Elvish.

The blond Elf was silent for a moment, his eyes searching. "Nothing," he said after a length. "T'was nothing."

Despite his words, Aragorn, Iliana, and Boromir continuously glanced toward the trees. The Half-Elf didn't sing anymore; she was worried the sound would carry to nearby enemies.

They traveled in silence, only speaking when necessary. Sam passed a worried look to Iliana, but she only smiled bravely at him, not wanting to upset the gentle Hobbit. The expression seemed to calm him, and he sat back in the boat and relaxed as much as he could.

After many hours of rowing, Iliana felt dizzy. She adjusted her pack and leaned against it, pulling the hood of her new cloak down over her eyes to block out the sun. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but soon she was lost in a world of nightmarish things.

The echo of a mighty horn, the distant clash of steel, voices entwined in song, the roar of a rushing water, the sorrowful scream ' _No'_ , the stampede of thunderous footfalls. Colors blurred, never settling on a specific moment for more than a split second, just long enough to confuse and disorient her.

She awoke to Pippin's hand gently shaking her. Without warning, she sat up rapidly, drawing her new knife. She startled Pippin, who thumped backwards away to avoid the blade. The boat rocked beneath them.

"Iliana?" Boromir asked, watching her.

She shook her head, sheathing the knife. "I apologize, Pippin," she said, giving the Hobbit a weak smile. "I was just startled."

"The Argonath," Aragorn breathed from the boat next to them, and Iliana turned to see the massive stone guardians. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin."

The group stared in wonder as they drifted pass, most of them bowing their heads respectfully. The Hobbits gazed up into the faces of the stone giants, whose hands were outstretched as if to ward off any ill-intentions from entering their lands. Iliana glanced back and saw Boromir's face lit up in a true smile, his stormy eyes sparkling brightly.

They set the boats on the western shore of the river, right before the waterfall. Iliana was glad to be on land again. The rocking of the boat was making her queasy. She helped the Hobbits from their boats, putting a hand out to steady Sam, who looked about as good as she felt.

"Hobbits belong on land," he groaned, moving to sit on a rock. "Not the water."

Iliana smiled as she helped unload the boats. She cast a curious look to Boromir, who still hadn't stood. He looked confused and uncertain and wouldn't meet her eye when she asked what was wrong.

"Nothing," he said, brushing her off and exiting the boat, hefting his shield and sword. He walked past her and set them down against one of the boulders.

As confused as she was by his actions, she knew there were more important things than his behavior. Soon, everything was unloaded, and Merry had a small fire going. Iliana leaned against a tree, her long legs stretched in front of her.

Her grandmother's outfitters had made an entire new set of traveling clothes. Her breeches were the light green-gray of the tree bark in Lothlorien. Her knee-high boots were a slightly darker shade of green, and were designed to not make a sound, no matter where she stepped. Her chemise was a dark, slate gray, and it clung to her like a second layer of skin. Her tunic was moss green, with billowing long sleeves and a deep V-neck that Iliana kept laced shut. She wore her chainmail over the tunic, the metal sleeves stopping at her elbows. The metal was designed to fit her tightly, yet not hinder her movements at all. Her deep brown leather vest and bracers finished her armor, and the cloak was pinner around her with a beautiful emerald and silver Lorien leaf broach.

Her sword hung from its scabbard at her belt, her twin long knives latched to her calves. The knife her grandfather gave her was sheathed on her right, and her bow and quiver were strapped to her back.

Merry went off to get more firewood, and Iliana closed her eyes, listening to Aragorn speak.

"We cross the lake at nightfall," he was saying, tossing a cloak to Pippin, who was roasting a squirrel. "Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the North."

The wind shifted, blowing the scent of the cooking meat towards her, and Iliana stood and sprinted a few yards away from the others, the Lambas bread she'd nibbled on earlier coming up in a rush. She waved aside Merry, who had stopped on his way back to check on her.

After a moment, her stomach calmed, and she walked back towards the fire, rinsing her mouth with water. She heard Gimli muttering about "recover my strength-". Legolas approached Aragorn quickly, his strides fluid-like.

"We should leave now," the Elf prince said, his eyes boring into the Man.

"No," Aragorn said simply. "Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness."

Legolas scanned the trees, his eyes bright as they searched. "It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat have been growing in my mind," he said, looking back to Aragorn and grasping his arm. "Something draws near. I can feel it."

His words and look in his eye sent shivers down Iliana's spine as she replaced her water bag.

Merry came back into the clearing, dropping the firewood he'd gathered. "Where is Frodo?" he asked after scanning the group.

His words caused everyone to straighten up, especially Sam, who had been dozing against a rock. Aragorn's green-gray eyes swept the area, resting on Boromir's shield, which was leaning against a tree. His eyes narrowed.

Iliana felt cold. "No," she whispered, taking off through the trees. She heard the others behind her, following and going off in different directions. She heard them calling Frodo's name, Sam's cry all the more desperate.

"Boromir!" she cried out, hoping the Gondorian could hear her. To her left, she saw Legolas sprinting, Gimli beside him. He nodded to her when she caught his eye. They raced off, and she skidded to a halt, panicking. "Boromir!"

Her voice echoed in the air, and she felt her hope begin to slip. Suddenly, she remembered the mirror her grandmother had given her. She raced back to camp and began tearing through her knapsack. Once she finally had it in her hands, she saw Boromir. He was wandering through the trees, dead leaves clinging to his cloak and hair. He looked like he was yelling, but she couldn't hear what he was saying.

Tucking the mirror in her pocket, she ran as fast as her legs would take her, hoping that she was going in the right direction. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her cloak and braid flying behind her as she ran.

Finally, she heard Boromir's voice. "Frodo, please forgive me?!" he yelled.

"Boromir!" Iliana called, sliding to a stop in the dead leaves. He had one hand supporting him against a tree; it looked like he was straightening up from being doubled over. His eyes were wide, and an almost manic gleam brightened them. They stumbled toward each other, and she caught his arms as he sank to his knees. She knelt with him, his hands slipping to her waist. "What happened?" she asked when she felt him trembling beneath her hands.

"I…I…" he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and opening them rapidly. "I tr-tried to take the Ring."

Iliana felt the blood drain from her face. "What?" she breathed, her chest aching.

He gripped her waist tightly. "I tried to take the Ring from Frodo!" he told her, his arms trembling more.

She stood up, pulling away. "Why?" she asked, her eyes wide and brimming with tears. "Why would you do that? Are you really that selfish?!" She stormed back and forth in front of him, running her fingers through her hair, mussing it in her braid. "Gah! _Garich idhol goll o Orch!"_

He slowly stood, his own eyes on fire. "Selfish?" he demanded, glaring at her. His movements were jerky, his lanky hair falling into his face. "I am acting to protect all of Gondor, my people! I am the Captain of Gondor! They look to me to save them!"

"This is not the way!" Iliana yelled at him, stepping closer and grabbing the front of his tunic. "Don't you see? The Ring with drive you mad with power, then it will kill you!"

He gripped her hands and jerked them from his clothes. "I could use it against the enemy," he growled low in his throat, glaring at her. "If you'd only just trust me-"

"I **do** trust you!" she said, tears falling angrily down her cheeks. "I just don't want to see you dead!" She snatched her hands away from him and began running, tears nearly blinding her. Trees whipped past her, their limbs tugging at her braid, loosening the ties that bound her hair.

She ran so far and so fast, not paying attention, and ran right into Legolas, sending them both flying backwards. When they hit the ground, they rolled for a moment, Legolas rolling onto the bottom.

"Oh!" she gasped, her face heating as she quickly stood, offering a hand to him. "I am so sorry, Legolas. I just…I was…"

Without saying a word, Legolas wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She broke down, sobbing quietly, her tears seeping through his vest. He rubbed her shoulder with one hand, the other brushing back her hair. When she finally stopped sobbing, she pulled back, and he smiled at her.

"Better?' he asked, brushing away the last few evidences of her tears. She nodded.

"Ahem," cleared a voice behind them, gruffly. They turned and saw Gimli leaning against his axe. "Am I interrupting?"

Iliana blushed and stepped away. She was about to tell them that she found Boromir when both she and Legolas turned, catching the sound of swords. They looked at each other and said in unison, "Aragorn!" They took off running, Gimli trailing behind.

As they ran, Legolas drew his bow and readied an arrow. Following his example, Iliana drew her sword. As they got closer, they heard Aragorn yelling and the unmistakable sounds of Orcs. Legolas and Iliana shared a look as they entered the clearing, Legolas's bow twanging with each loosed arrow.

Iliana swung, taking off the head of a massive Orc. She attacked another. It was stronger than most of the other Orcs she had faced. "What are these things?!" she demanded, hacking at the creature.

"Uruk-hai!" Legolas called, taking two down at once. "Orc and Goblin crossbreeds!"

"Blarggh!" Gimli roared, chopping through their ranks.

One of the Uruks caught her unawares, and it sliced a long but shallow gash down the back of her leg. Yelling out, she attacked with renewed vigor, her leg going numb. Still swinging her sword, she drew the knife her grandfather gave her. Using both hands now, she became a vicious warrior, an Elven princess dancing with death. She didn't feel it when a blade sliced into her skin, so absorbed was she in her dance of death.

Suddenly, there weren't any more Uruks. Legolas shot the one choking Aragorn. Iliana took a moment to breath, her entire body on fire.

A long, echoing blast that seemed very familiar to her thundered through the trees. She looked to the others, confused.

"The Horn of Gondor!" Legolas said, dirt smudged on his brow.

Her blood ran cold. "Boromir!" she exclaimed, racing towards the blasts, Aragorn following closely. Her leg almost gave out under her weight, but she pushed on, gritting her teeth against the pain. Another Uruk lunged at her, but she stopped short, and it flew past her, smacking into a tree. She continued her race towards Boromir as he sounded the horn again.

She crested the top of the hill, spotting Boromir in the bowl of it, surrounded by dead Uruk-hai. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him fighting. Merry and Pippin were behind him, their little blades fending off an Uruk together.

The sudden twang of a bow made her heart stop as an arrow protruded from Boromir's chest, directly above his heart.

"No!" she wailed, the world around her shattering as she ran. Around her, nature began to morph, tree limbs swinging and knocking back Uruks, roots pinning them to the earth. She saw red as she hurried.

To her shock, Boromir stood and continued fighting, killing another two Uruks. Just as he turned, another arrow embedded itself, this time in his stomach. She shrieked again, and vines looped down and hung and Uruk that made a swing at her. Boromir fell to his knees, staring at Merry and Pippin. She could see he was struggling to breathe. _"Stay down!"_ she pleaded in her mind, and just as she did, he stood.

He slashed through three more, yelling in rage, his hair drenched in sweat. He waited for another Uruk to approach, and instead was rewarded with another arrow, right in the center of his chest. He staggered, then fell to his knees, breathing heavily.

Iliana slashed through the Uruk-hai that stood in her way, her blade slicing through them easily. She heard Marry and Pippin yell, anger in their voices. When she turned and looked, they were being carried off, and the Uruk with a massive and ugly bow stood in front of Boromir, drawing back an arrow.

With no one else in her way, she hurled herself down the slope, knocking the Uruk aside and making him miss. It was like slamming into a boulder, the wind rushing from her lungs as she tried to stand, her leg buckling. She raised her sword just as it was dealing a blow with his own cruel weapon, the jolt reverberating up her arms. He kicked her back, his massive foot planting in her chest. Just as he was about to swing at her, Aragorn slid behind him, planting his knife into the Uruk's thigh. It roared, punching him in the face. Aragorn rolled away, blood dripping from his mouth. The Uruk threw the blade, and Aragorn batted it aside with his sword.

Iliana stood, limping on her leg, and attacked viciously. Her sword grew heavy in her hands as she parried and dodged. Suddenly, she saw an opening. Her blade cleaved off the creature's right arm. Instead of hindering it, it only made the beast angrier. Glaring at it, she plunged her blade into its stomach, just as Aragorn decapitated it. As the beast fell, its body tugged Iliana's blade from her hands. She didn't care, for she was stumbling backwards, crawling towards Boromir.

When she found him, his face was pale, and blood trickled from the corner of his lip. Sweat soaked his brow as he struggled to breathe. Tears sprung to her eyes as she grasped his right hand in hers. "Boromir, I-"

"You were right," he choked, smiling through the pain for a moment. "I was being selfish."

Iliana shook her head, tears dripping down to her chin. "It doesn't matter," she said, brushing back his hair. Despite the sweat, his skin was cold and clammy. "You were so brave."

He chuckled, then winced. "Brave? Thought I was an ignorant, moronic Man?" He was trying to tease her, even as he was dying.

Aragorn knelt on the other side of Boromir, and the Gondorian let his humor fade. "They took the little ones," he told Aragorn, choking on his own words.

Aragorn looked over the wounds, his face a mask as he told Boromir, "Hold still."

"Frodo," Boromir said, drawing a breath. "Where's Frodo?"

Aragorn sighed, looking back into his fellow Man's eyes. "I let Frodo go."

Boromir's grip tightened on Iliana's hand, and he smiled. "Then you did what I could not," he said, relief in his voice. "I tried to take the Ring from him."

Aragorn shook his head. "The Ring is beyond our reach now," he whispered, gripping Boromir's other hand.

"Forgive me," the Gondorian pleaded. "I did not see it. I have failed you all." His eyes darted to Iliana, who shook her head.

"No, Boromir," she said, smoothing back his hair again. "You fought bravely. You have kept your honor."

While she spoke, Aragorn moved to pull out the arrow shafts. "Leave it!" Boromir said, his voice strong for just the minute. "It is over. The world of Men will fall. And all will come to darkness and my city to ruin."

Aragorn shook his head, looking him in the eye. "I do not know what strength is in my blood," he said, "but I swear to you that I will not let the White City fall, nor out people fail."

"Our people," Boromir choked. "Our people." He reached out for his sword, which Aragorn placed in his grasp. He pulled the hilt to his chest. "I would have followed you, my brother, my captain…" he swore, "my king."

"Be at peace, Son of Gondor," Aragorn said, kissing his brow and standing, giving Iliana and Boromir privacy.

He held her hand tightly, his entire body trembling. A tear fell from his eye as he looked at her. "I don't want to let you go," he whispered, smiling weakly.

She sniffled and kissed his hand. "You never will," she said. "You'll have a hold on my heart for the rest of my life, you stubborn Man."

He smiled and raised a hand to brush back her hair. "Sing to me?" he asked.

She nodded and began to sing, her voice strong and beautiful.

"When the cold of winter comes

Starless night will cover day

In the veiling of the sun

We will walk in bitter rain

But in dreams

I can hear your name

And in dreams

We will meet again

When the seas and mountains fall

And we come to end of days

In the dark I hear a call

Calling me there

I will go there

And back again"

Boromir smiled at her. "I love the sound of your voice," he said, squeezing her hand. "'And in dreams, we will meet again'," he quoted. She closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheek as she kissed his hand. _"Le melon, Iliana."_ His grip went slack, and she opened her eyes. His face was calm, all traces of pain and regret gone.

"Boromir?" she asked. No answer. She gripped his hand tighter. "Boromir?!" Her throat tightened, and she rested her head on his still chest. _"Le melon, Boromir. No ro go hul, bado go Eru."_

After they removed the arrows and cleaned him, Aragorn, Legolas, and Iliana placed Boromir's body in one of the boats. They used his cloak as a pillow, his splintered shield resting above his head. They crossed his arms on his chest, laying his sword along the length of his body. His horn, which had been broke in two, sat by his left side. Grasped in his fist was a thick coil of braided hair, which Iliana had cut from her own head.

"He loved my hair," she said, cutting it over just above her shoulders and coiling the long braid around his fist.

"They will look for his coming from the White Tower," Aragorn said as they watched Boromir go over the falls. "But he will not return."

Iliana closed her eyes, sending a silent prayer with the boat

Legolas began pushing their last boat into the water. "Hurry!" he said. "Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore."

Aragorn looked up from tightening Boromir's bracers on his wrists, the White Tree still gleaming on them.

"You mean not to follow them," Legolas said, shocked.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn said, sighing.

Iliana looked up, the wind blowing her now short hair in her face. Her chest felt hollow as she gazed at the river.

"Then it has all been in vain," Gimli said. "The Fellowship has failed."

They all gathered around Aragorn, looking dejected. He stood there for a moment, then placed a hand on both Legolas's and Gimli's shoulders. "Not if we all hold true to each other," he said. He let go of Legolas and clasped Iliana's hand. "we will not abandon Merry and pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." He pushed past them, sliding his knife in its sheath. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light." He gave them an encouraging grin. "Let's hunt some Orc."

Gimli and Legolas exchanged looks, the Dwarf roaring, 'Yes!" while hefting his axe. He followed Aragorn into the woods.

Legolas paused, looking at Iliana. "We'll avenge our fallen comrade," he said, clasping her hand and leading her after the other two.

Iliana ran, following her dearest friends as they raced to rescue the rest of their stolen Fellowship. Her heart heavy, she vowed that she would not be satisfied until their quest was complete.

 **End of the Fellowship of the Ring**

 _ **Author's Note:**_

 _ **Happy Friday to you all!**_

 _ **"No galu govad gen" means "May blessings go with you"**_

 _ **"Mornie utulie" means "Darkness has come"**_

 _ **"Mornie alantie" means "Darkness has fallen"**_

 _ **"U i vethed na i onnad…**_ _ **Si boe a-dhanna**_ _ **Ae u-esteli, estelio veleth**_ _ **Estelio hen, estelio han, estelio**_ _ **Estelio han, estelio veleth**_ **_U i vethed na ionned…_** ** _Na boe ui_** ** _Esteliach nod, estelio han" means "This is not the end...It is the beginning You cannot falter now If you don't trust, trust nothing else Trust this, trust this, trust Trust this, trust love This is not the end...it is the beginning You should not do this If you trust anything, trust this"_**

 ** _"Garich i dhol goll o Orch" means "You have the hollow head of an Orc"_**

 ** _"Le melon, Iliana" means "I love you, Iliania"_**

 ** _"Le melon, Boromir. No ro go hul, bado go Eru" means "I love you, Boromir. Run with the wind, go with God."_**

 ** _mycarnation: I appreciate the feedback!_**

 _ **Passerby (Guest): I**_ _ **apologize that you dislike my story so much, but I'm sure I put this under movie and not books. I am sorry that I use the quotes from the movie, but no one forced you to read.**_

 _ **Leave me a review please! And enjoy! Being as this is the end of "The Fellowship", I will be taking a month off before I begin posting "The Two Towers". Thank you all for your continued support!**_


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